Stuck With You
by angelicakes
Summary: 22 characters are stuck together in a room. Who will be the last one out to win 1,000,000 dollars? Read to find out! Second fanfic ever, so expect many illogical errors.
1. Meet the Contestants

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these Banjo Tooie/Kazooie characters. And you should probably be glad I don't. OH! But I do own one of the contestants! She's the jinjo. But that's the only one I own! Dang, I wish I owned Mr. Pants! Think of all the marketing schemes I could formulate!

A man entered the room. He appeared plain and simple to the general eye: a navy business suit, red and black striped tie, polished shoes, neatly kept brown hair, and a sneaky smile plastered to his face. Once he remained still with his microphone close to his lips, his bulging eyes rolled around the room at his vastly differentiating contestants. This was going to be loads of fun; he could tell.

"Okay! All you 22 contestants! What you are competing for is a prize of 1,000,000 dollars. Here, you have to live together in a room that's not so big, just the size of a large living room! You're lucky we didn't make it the size of a bathroom. Anyway, there will be some challenges, vote- offs, and other stuff like that along the way. If you can't take it anymore, you have the choice to quit, but then you wouldn't make all this money now, would you? So basically, you have to survive with the stupidity of all the rest of your roommates, with only 3 beds and only oatmeal-grade portions for breakfast!

"But I like oatmeal!" Kazooie piped up. "What kind of torture is that!?"

"Well then, you get gruel! So, I shall lead all you contestants to your room. First of all, HERE are the contestants! Well, we know Kazooie is here..."

"Don't rub it in... please…"

"And that must mean you're here, Banjo."

"Unfortunately, yes," he grumbled.

"Now where's Mumbo?"

"Here, big-mouth man," he said. "Me want big money."

"Uh-huh. Is Wumba here?"

"Yes." All of a sudden, Mumbo's face dropped from a cheerful expression to a really pissed off one.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, completely drama-induced. "I HAVE TO LIVE WITH UGLY WOMAN!?"

"Mwahahahahahaha... I did that on purpose, just to torture you. Now to torture everyone, come up, Gruntilda!"

Everyone in the room screamed. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HOW COULD YOU!?"

"Hey, who wouldn't pass a chance to become a millionaire?" Gruntilda cackled, flicking Banjo's nose evilly. Banjo quivered uneasily.

"Back to the point. Come in here, Jamjars!"

Jamjars walked in. "Yes, sir!"

"Oh... kay. And Bottles!"

"Erm... Oooh?"

"Stop that retarded noise you make! Now I'm getting the peculiar feeling you'll annoy everyone with it and make everyone quit on the first day! Anyway, let's cut to the chase. Klungo?"

"Yessssssss, Klungo here," he said, but suddenly stopped when he saw Gruntilda standing in the room. "Can Klungo not compete now?"

"Too bad, so sad. Get in there. Now, Honey B. I can see that you're a contestant, too."

"Yeah."

"OK, not a bee of many words, are you? Well, anyway, King Jingaling?"

"Yeah, me too."

"Good. This is going by a little faster now. Canary Mary?"

"SQUAWK!"

"Ugh... I guess you ARE here. Jolly Roger?"

Jolly comes staggering by. He is obviously drunk.

"Um... Eyah. Is Boggy here?"

"WAHAY!!!!!!"

"I can... tell. What about Mr. Fit, the random character?"

"Here!"

"I wonder why they call you Mr. "Fit" when you look more like a Mr. "Fat?" Anyway, Bill? Bullion Bill?"

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAW! You betcha"

"I feel like nobody's gonna last with you around. Perfect. What about Chief Bloatazin?"

A huge blob of fat that doesn't look like his self-proclaimed species, a leopard, jiggles into the room.

"Uh... huh. And the sad thing is, he's almost naked, too. That will scare everyone away. Next, is the caveman, Unga Bunga!"

"Me Unga bunga! Me pound all your heads in pulp so me can win!" Everyone began to sweat nervously.

"And he goes with force, doesn't he? Next, a little stray Jinjo we found. Uh... what's your name again?"

"Molly."

"Eyah, amazing. Go on in."

"Wait a second."

He sighed impatiently. "What?"

"What's YOUR name, Mr.?"

"Uh, that's not important now! Just... go in! OK, and next is Old King Coal!"

"RAR!"

"Oh... kay." He shuddered ever so slightly.

"Only kidding, I'm actually really sensitive on the inside." He snuggles the host.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! NOW I'M ALL DIRTY! AND I'VE BEEN HUGGED BY A PIECE OF BURNT ROCK! Scarred… for… life… okay, I'll try to get over that." He regained composure. "Next is the nearsighted welding torch, Weldar!"

"You realize I don't weld metal together?"

"Oh, then what do you weld?"

"HUMANS!"

"Okay, cool, pretty cool… go on ahead. And please hurry up."

A horrible screech goes by as he enters the room. "Doh! I forgot my glasses again!"

"Oh...kay. Mingy Jongo. You're up."

"Mwahahahahahahahahahaha..."

"Not gonna say anything else? Go right in."

ZAP

"Ugh..." He appeared more crunchy and black than when he had been hugged by a giant rock composed of filth. "Okay, that was mean… now, how about our last contestant… the most feared… The most daring… The most sexiest out of all of you... MR. PANTS!!!!!"

Everyone twitched their eyes (except for Boggy). "Mr. Pants?"

"Yes. Who else could I mean by 'daring' and 'sexy'?"

A walking stick figure wearing scarcely anything but a thong comes in.

"Wh- why is a man wearing girl's underwear?" Banjo said nervously.

'Because he is DEAD SEXY!"

Everyone collapses in a seemingly anime-style. (Except for Boggy, who is drooling)

"So... I guess We have all the contestants, right? Oh-kaaayyyyyy! I'll be waiting, my precious dearies!" With a quick maneuver he shut the door and locked it with haste, rubbing his hands together and raising his eyebrows evilly.


	2. Getting Used to It

The room looked extremely plain and boring. There was no carpet, just tiles made of cement for a floor. The wallpaper was plain, too. A pale shade of pink. At least there was a small room connected, which was the bathroom. It even had a bathtub and a sink. Even two bars of soap. The main room had only three beds. They were each right next to each other. The blankets were at least soft and velvety, the color of magenta. The pillows were to die for. One bedside lamp was next to the one farthest from the wall. But, regardless of how you looked at it, either way, this fact remained outstanding and clear: there still were only 3 beds.

The ceiling was really tall, obviously so it could fit some of the larger roommates. The room itself was quite wide, so it could fit everyone without forcing them to sweat all over one another. Even still, it was pretty crowded. You couldn't get by walking without bumping into someone, or pushing and shoving. You were almost always touching someone or getting dangerously close to their self-proclaimed personal bubble, which varied person to person. It got pretty annoying after a while, and fights broke out.

"Brainless shaman purposely touch Wumba!" Wumba hollered at Mumbo, who had accidentally bumped into his arch rival.

"Mumbo wouldn't touch hideous wench if his life depended on it!" he growled back.

"Well, I think you just did," Bottles pointed out.

"Speak for yourself!" They both yelled.

As you could have guessed already, the room was also really loud. Sometimes you had to cover your precious ears to be away from it all. Jolly just locked himself in the bathroom to find some method of escape, with Boggy whining on the outside that he had to go to the bathroom really bad. Jamjars ordered everyone around so much that his throat got sore. In the end practically everyone had a headache and was tired out from all of the racket and the shouting.

"Eeeeew, I just ran into Chief Bloatazin!" Kazooie wailed. "Can you at LEAST put some decent clothes on!? It's really unpleasant looking at a fat naked leopard who has no understandable body shape whatsoever."

Chief Bloatazin had a hurt expression on his face. "I can't run right. I'm too overweight. No diet for me."

"Well then PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!!!"

"They... don't fit."

Mumbo came up to him. "Uh.... Who are you?"

Chief Bloatazin suddenly forgot what was going on. "WHERE'S TARGITZAN'S TREASURE! I LOST IT!!!!!!!" (A/N: FYI, this happened because if you already have found Targitzan's relic thingy, then you go up to him as Mumbo, he says he will only talk to Banjo, then starts wobbling around the place looking for the treasure all over again, even though it was right there all along in the middle. Hopeless character.) Mumbo sighed. "Fat feline hopeless."

"I can hardly take this anymore," Mr. Fit muttered.

"If you will but excuse me, I am undergoing the same kind of tribulations as you," Weldar sighed.

"SHUT UP!!!" Mingy Jongo said rather vehemently.

"What? Would you like a piece of me?" Weldar hissed, ready to chuck a bolt from his interior structure at no notice.

Banjo sighed. "Will you guys cut it out? You've been angry at each other for the whole time you've been here."

"I suggest you shut up yourself before the bosses all gang up on you," Mingy said evilly. "What? Never took us all on before at once?" He caught the expression of anguish. "Good call."

"Guh-oh..." He ran off to the other side of the room and decided to watch Boggy jump on the bed instead of get torn to pieces by the majority of bosses he had dealt with already.

"Careful, you're gonna break the thing!" Jamjars yelled.

"We have limited beds, ya know!" Old King Coal said.

"Not that you can actually fit in one or anything," Kazooie muttered.

"What was that?" Old King Coal threatened.

"Oh, nothing," Kazooie said airily.

"I wanna call that gosh darn bed!" Bullion Bill stated proudly.

"No you don't!" Mr. Fit said.

"Yuh-huh!" Bill argued.

"Nuh-uh!" Mr. Fit countered.

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Grunty screeched. "It's MY bed!" She removed Boggy from the bed , and plopped down onto the mattress. "Goodnight!" She instantly began snoring.

"No fair!" Mr. Fit whined.

"I lost interest anyway...." Boggy said, staring at Mr. Pants while he did the belly dance.

The clock in the room read 5:00 PM..

"Hey, when does this contest thingy end, anyway?" King Jingaling said.

"When only one contestant is left," Honey B said sweetly.

"Oh. Dang it, that's a long time."

"I know."

Pretty much the same stuff ended up happening in the past few hours. Mr. Fit tried to get Bloatazin and Boggy to go on a weight loss program, the Unga Bunga tribe member strived to kill people with his enormous club, King Jingaling, Jamjars, Wumba, Bottles, Banjo, Kazooie, and Mumbo ended up playing poker out of idle boredom, Jolly accidentally left the water running in the sink somehow, and Weldar and Mingy ended up fighting each other. Already, some contestants were losing it. But none of them were willing to give up the win so easily.

In the end of the day, the ones who eventually got the beds were Grunty, Banjo, and Unga Bunga (by force). Kazooie just decided to sleep on Banjo's bedpost, and Canary Mary just copied the idea and slept on Mr. Fit's bedpost. Everyone else slept on the cold, hard floor.


	3. The First one to Quit

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except for Molly.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
When the morning's first sunbeams hit the sky, everyone had awoken. They fell asleep early last night, so they woke up early. Half of the contestants had forgotten where they were, and expected to be in their own beds or casual sleeping area. Instead, you'd find yourself on the floor, or in a strange bed.  
  
"Whoa.... Where am I?" Honey B said. "Oh yeah........" In a way, she was disappointed. It meant she was still trapped in this room with all these other people, no privacy, no room, not really any good comfort, and the loudness of everyone chatting. Already she missed her home in her little bee shed. She missed the taste of honey. She just missed having..... well, privacy.  
  
Pretty soon, the room got livelier again like it had yesterday. Everyone was pretty much dreading the oatmeal (except for the oatmeal lovers), and wondered who would be first to go. Already it seemed like everyone was starting to get on everyone's nerves, so many guessed it wouldn't be long before anyone quit.  
  
There was a loud bang, and the door flew open, revealing the host. Everyone kind of smiled at that, because they could tell something interesting was going to happen.  
  
"Well, guys, how are y'all tolerating each other?" he said enthusiastically.  
  
"Klungo doessssssn't really like game," Klungo said.  
  
"Oh? And why not?"  
  
"Ever since Klungo free of Missssstresss, Misssstresss get really angry at poor Klungo."  
  
The host looked bored. "Well, you can always quit....... And lose the prize." Klungo shook his head.  
  
"Noooo! Klungo want money!"  
  
"Well, anyway, I'll cut to the chase. I brought you all breakfast."  
  
"Is it that oatmeal you promised?" grumbled Old King Coal.  
  
"No, in fact, I brought you doughnuts!"  
  
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" was everyone's reply.  
  
"YOU'RE THE BEST!!" Kazooie hollered.  
  
The host smirked. "Only kidding. I brought you all gruel instead of doughnuts. Careful, it's quite cold." Everyone's faces fell dramatically.  
  
"I take it back. YOU'RE THE WORST!" Kazooie said.  
  
"Well, not everyone gets what they want. I'll be seein' ya!" The host quickly left before anyone could reply.  
  
"I feel sick..." Canary Mary said.  
  
"Cold gruel....." Bottles whined.  
  
"Man, I really wanted a doughnut right now...." Boggy said hungrily, drooling.  
  
About half of the contestants threw their gruel away. It was so disgusting they couldn't even look at it. Wumba had sworn she had seen it move on it's own.  
  
"Unga Bunga want meat!" the Unga Bunga tribe member boomed. He eyed Kazooie hungrily. Kazooie paid no notice, but Banjo was watching.  
  
"Uh.... Kazooie?" Banjo said.  
  
"What?" she said, still hot with anger.  
  
"I think somebody wants to have you for breakfast.  
  
"Really? How kind of them. Do they have doughnuts?"  
  
"Erm...... actually, he wants to have fried Breegull."  
  
"You're joking."  
  
"No. You're the main course."  
  
"What the!?"  
  
"It's that caveman over there. He's hungry."  
  
"Then tell him to eat some leftover gruel! There's plenty left......" she gulped.  
  
"Don't worry Kazooie, I'll watch your back for ya."  
  
"Thanks, Banjo, you're a pal."  
  
The Unga Bunga man looked disappointed, but just went on running around stupidly. Mr. Pants was walking around, acting extremely sexy.  
  
"OK, I want Mr. Pants gone," King Jingaling said with a slight shiver. "He's scaring me."  
  
"YOU KIDDING!? I LOVE MR. PANTS!" That was none other than Boggy, who watched his show on a regular basis. "DANCE FOR ME, YOU SEXY BASTARD!"  
  
"ShhhhhHHHH! There's a little kid around here," Weldar said, motioning to Molly, who was climbing onto one of the beds. Boggy rolled his eyes.  
  
"THEY'LL LEARN SOONER OR LATER!" Boggy shouted, entranced by the real live Mr. Pants.  
  
"He's screwed up, that Boggy," Mingy said irritably.  
  
"All the fat must've gone to his head," Weldar commented.  
  
The next 3 hours went on like usual. Mr. Fit and Canary Mary had a senseless race together. Gruntilda and Banjo had a ferocious stare down with each other. Bottles and Jamjars had an argument upon who taught the better moves of the two. And Mr. Pants had just gotten scarier. That was it for King Jingaling.  
  
"I'VE HAD IT!!" he screamed. "I CAN'T TAKE THAT PANTS DUDE ANY LONGER!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" He ran out of the door in a hurry. Then, the alarms sounded. An intercom came up.  
  
"King Jingaling, you have decided to quit the game. You are officially out, and you do not win the fabulous prize of 1,000,000 dollars. You may not re-enter the room. Goodbye."  
  
"Aw, and he was one of the sane people too!" Jamjars wailed.  
  
"I guess Jinjo King couldn't take dancing underwear man any longer," Mumbo sighed.  
  
"I can barely stand him myself," Kazooie said.  
  
Well, that was it for chapter three I guess. Hehe, I'm not doing so bad, am I? Now that King Jingaling is gone, at least there's more room and less noise! Who will make it to the end? 


	4. First Challenge: A Race

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these Banjo-Tooie characters. Except for Molly. How many times do I have to say this, anyway?

Chapter 4

The day (and night) continued on as casually as ever. Everyone had become more eager to win, since King Jingaling had quit. A few contestants were a little bit sad for their Jinjo friend, but had gotten over the loss pretty quickly.

The next morning, sunlight beamed through the tiny, filthy windows. Everyone woke up kind of early today, and no one had much sleep, either, due to the discomfort of the concrete floor and some houseguests whining and complaining. Also, some arguments had erupted later in the night. But now, some contestants, or should I say most, were on the tired side. It got ugly.

Mumbo had drawn an imaginary line across half of the room. It was so Wumba would stay away, on "her side" of the room. Wumba had agreed enthusiastically, but....

"Amateur shaman stays on his own side!" Wumba hollered.

"No, Mumbo on his side still!" Mumbo argued, even though he was about 4 feet away from the "line", which was pretty obvious that he wasn't. Everyone around them just hook their heads and sighed.

"No he isn't!" Wumba growled. "Mumbo get on his side, or else Wumba turn into hideous toad with warts!" Mumbo made a face in the most immature way, and stomped off to the other side of the room. Wumba smiled to herself victoriously.

After a breakfast of fat backs and grits (Pig wedges and old, moldy cream of wheat), the host barged in once again. Smiling dramatically, he grabbed the nearest contestant in one arm (Bottles) and gave him a really hard noogie.

"Guys and gals!" he shouted with a microphone. "Our first challenge!"

"Better be good," Jamjars mumbled.

"Ooooh, I'm ready for a challenge!" Mr. Fit shouted, and he began to do various crunches and push-ups. The host let go of Bottles, letting him breathe. "Our challenge is a race across a mile long track. The thing you don't want, is to be caught in last place at the end of the race. If you win first place, however, you will be rewarded with immunity for our vote-out tonight."

Some of the faster people smiled, having faith in themselves. The slower people didn't look too sure of themselves.

"Any questions before we go out to the track?" the announcer said.

Kazooie was the first to blurt something out. "Do we get to use items?"

"Nope. Just pure skill."

"Can we hurt people?" Mingy asked hopefully.

"Hm, no," the host said.

"But...... we're tired!" Chief Bloatazin said with a yawn. "Can't we do something else?"

"No, we're doing a race. We're wasting time here. Let's go!" He began to walk away. Everyone shrugged and followed.

Everybody was pleased to be out of that hell hole. The fresh air was so pleasant. Most of all the unhappy or grumpy moods became cheerful. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue today. The sun was shining down on everything. Birds were wrapped up in the most wonderful singsong. The grass was so green. So fresh.... Ah. Some were using this time of being free from that stinky old cramped up room. Molly playfully threw some stray dandelions at people, even the seemingly annoyed host. Kazooie could let the soft, light breeze flow past her crimson-gold wings. Bullion Bill could finally perform his hillbilly dance in front of everyone. And Honey B could finally breathe some clean air. Basically, everyone was enjoying their freedom.

After about a quarter mile of walking, all 22 of them (including the host) reached the long track. Some contestants gulped in horror. You couldn't really see the end. It was like the ocean.... Well, sort of.

"We're supposed to run THAT!?" Jamjars complained nervously.

"I can't even run that far!" Chief Bloatazin wailed.

The announcer cleared his throat. "There are certain rules. One: You can't fly over 6 feet high." Kazooie, Canary Mary, and Honey B felt a wave of disappointment go over them.

"Two: You can't push or shove. Three: No running off the track. Four: You're allowed to take short breaks or walk the track." Boggy and a few of the other less fit people breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, I guess that's it. Oh, and you moles there. NO DIGGING!" Jamjars and Bottles got a little angry and frustrated. They were barely able to run, less wobble.

"All right then. Get into your places!" the host commanded. In about a minute, everyone was assembled onto the starting line.

"Here we go.......5.......4.......3........2.........1.....GO!" He shot off a small gun that shoots confetti.

Already, it seemed like Kazooie, Molly, Canary Mary, and Mr. Fit were ganging up on each other for the lead, while the extremely slow Gruntilda, Bottles, Chief Bloatazin, Old King Coal, Jamjars, Boggy, and Klungo were near last place.

Mumbo whizzed past Weldar, accidentally yet amazingly knocking him over. "HEY!" Weldar screamed. "Get your bony ass over here!"

Mumbo looked back, but, not caring, continued on with the race. Weldar grumbled, and pushed his heavy tankard body along. Eventually, even the slow people were ahead of him. Old King Coal was right next to Weldar, since he couldn't even run.

In the lead, Kazooie and Molly had gone farther than Mr. Fit and Canary Mary, and were passing each other often for the lead. (If you haven't noticed, Jinjos are frickin' fast.) Canary Mary and Mr. Fit were ganging up on each other in 3rd and 4th place. Canary Mary was flapping her goldenrod yellow wings rapidly, trying to outrun, or "outfly" Mr. Fit. They were really breaking a sweat.

Mingy Jongo and Mumbo were equally fast, being almost exactly the same, except Mingy being robotic. Mumbo knew that this was his other enemy, and Mingy knew that this was his. They glared at each other menacingly while running as fast as they can to get ahead of one another.

Some people didn't care if they won or not, just as long as they didn't get last. Weldar had eventually slipped behind Old King Coal. He was now panicking.

"I have no choice...." He said. He leaped into the air in that extremely annoying fashion, and was now hovering above the track, going pretty fast.

Kazooie had passed Molly by 2 feet, and with the finish line just ahead of her, she had a 99.99 % chance of winning.

"Yes...... haha, I get immunity!" She almost made it..... when that little .01 happened. Weldar came crashing down on the finish line , making Kazooie squawk and retreat back a few steps. Molly had passed the finish line by then, taking full advantage of Kazooie.

Weldar wasn't a legible winner. He didn't get last place, either. So, Molly got first place. Then came Mr. Fit, Canary Mary, Kazooie, Mumbo, Mingy, Jolly, Banjo, Bullion Bill, Mr. Pants, Wumba, Unga Bunga, Honey B, Klungo, Jamjars, Bottles, Gruntilda, Boggy, Chief Bloatazin, and in last place, Old King Coal.

"Molly, congratulations, you cannot be voted off!" the host shouted, lacing a chained red necklace around her tiny neck that had an "I" at the end. She smiled proudly.

"As for Old King Coal..... I'm sorry. You may now leave. You are evicted. Goodbye." Old King Coal frowned.

"Now..... as for all the rest of you, go back to your house, erm, place." They obeyed, and went back home, exhausted beyond belief.


	5. Vote Off Number 1

Disclaimer: For the last time, I do not own any character in this game. Geez, to think you'd get the point by now.....

This chapter might be shorter than some of the others, but that's OK, right? It IS just a vote-off after all.

As everyone arrived in their humble home, they plopped down, worn-out and exhausted. There was more room without big Old King Coal to hog up space. Now, there were 20 contestants in all.

It was noon. For lunch, they were served raw squid (which only Jolly, Gruntilda, Boggy and Unga Bunga ate). Bottles instantly fell asleep on one of the beds, but Klungo just rolled over on the floor and began snoring.

"Ugh..... I hate this place," Gruntilda mumbled. "I could just kill someone......"

"Y-you don't mean it, do you?" Jolly asked, a little bit scared.

"Of course I do! What else will I do in my spare time?" Gruntilda cackled. "And there's no rules against it....." She glared at Banjo, who pretended not to notice.

Molly was proud of her new necklace, even though she didn't know what it was for, fully. She showed everyone practically 8 times each. "Se? Lookie my new necklace!" she exclaimed to Grunty.

"Shu- I mean, nice," Grunty said, a new idea popping into her thick skull. "Why don't you let me have a look at that necklace?" She let out a hand, expecting that immunity necklace.

"Sure!" she said gleefully. Weldar, who seemed strangely protective of the little Jinjo, snapped to attention instantly.

"No you don't," he said, a little annoyed. "Molly, don't give it to her."

"Why?" she asked, full of question.

"Because she's not going to give it back," he said calmly, ruining Gruntilda's plan. "And Grunty, it wouldn't matter anyway. The immunity necklace just _shows_ you who is immune to our vote-off. It's already in their records." Gruntilda gave him an ugly, nasty stare full of hatred, pointed her bony middle finger at him and stomped off. Weldar smiled.

Bullion Bill was trying to get Banjo to dance with him. Banjo refused politely. "N-no thanks," he said as he watched Bill dance foolishly. Bill didn't care, he grabbed Banjo and actually forced him to dance with him. And so, Banjo was humiliated by Bill really bad, everyone laughing at him. Mumbo had managed to get a snapshot of them.

"Good souvenir," Mumbo said, then skipped off into the bathroom. Banjo shook his head, full of humiliation.

Many wanted to vote off Mr. Pants, since he was scaring the crap outta people. Boggy wanted to vote out Chief Bloatazin because they had a little war on who was fatter. Chief Bloatazin wanted to do the same.

Some were getting afraid of Unga Bunga, who was constantly trying to go with brute force. He acted like he owned the place. Many made up their mind that he should go.

Honey B began to flirt with Banjo over and over again, but every time, he seemed to ignore her. That made her a bit upset. Canary Mary began to hate Mr. Fit. Everything was happening all at once.

Finally, when nightfall arrived, the host came in. He had in his hand slips of paper. In the other, he held plenty of pencils and pens. Silently, he began to pass out papers.

Finally, after handing out the last one, he got everyone's attention by clapping. They immediately began to listen to what he had to say.

"OK. This is very simple. Check off the name you want gone. OK? I'll be waiting." Pencils began scribbling. After about 30 seconds, they were done.

"OK!" The results were:

Banjo: 1

Kazooie: 1

Mumbo: 2

Wumba: 1

Gruntilda: 2

Jamjars: 0

Bottles: 0

Klungo: 0

Honey B: 0

Canary Mary: 1

Jolly: 0

Boggy: 2

Mr. Fit: 1

Bullion Bill: 1

Chief Bloatazin: 1

Unga Bunga: 3

Molly: (immune)

Weldar: 2

Mingy: 0

Mr. Pants: 2

"Ahem," the announcer stated. "Here are the results." All the contestants in the room began to feel tense. They were all hoping that the one with the most votes wasn't them.

"Unga Bunga!" h shouted, eyeing the ferocious caveman nervously, "You have been voted as the most unwanted person here! You may now leave." After snorting and pounding his fists angrily against the hard ground, the Unga Bunga shuffled out of the room, back towards his cave in Terrydactyland. After saluting the 19 contestants in the room, the host sped off.

"Ah well, no one really cared about him anyway," commented Jolly.

"Besides, he tried to eat me!" Kazooie said.

"This is a better place without him," Banjo agreed.

The rest of the night had gone off really smoothly.

Ehe....... That was my 5th chapter. Not the best. I need to type up my 6th pretty soon. Don't worry, it's not going to take long. Expect it here in less than 3 days.


	6. An Ordinary Day

Sorry it took so long to update. I was too absorbed with my other fanfics, especially my SSBM one. I said three days?! HOLY CRAP, I AM SO SORRY!!! I should pay attention more. Well, anyway, I'll add the next chapter.

The next day, pretty much everyone slept well. Breakfast was frozen cubes of bacon fat, which even sounds nasty, not to mention looked nasty as well. So nasty, that in fact Gruntilda was the only one insane enough to eat any. So she had seconds, even thirds. Klungo got so queasy watching her gulp it down that he puked in the toilet. Otherwise, everyone else was close to doing the same.

"I'm actually getting close to quitting myself," Bottles said.

"Good, we won't miss ya!" Kazooie replied, snickering.

"Kazooie..." Banjo muttered, familiar with his Breegull friend's attitude towards others.

"Fine, I was only kidding, Beetle-breath," she said, mocking apology. Banjo decided it was best to just ignore her and move on with his life.

"Well, I could live like this all year if I wanted to!" Gruntilda said haughtily.

"Well, no duh, you've been stuck under a rock for at least two years!" Jamjars countered.

"Which is exactly why I joined this stupid thing anyway!"

"I hope she quits soon......" Banjo whispered quietly, a little edgy.

""Don't worry, I'll stay extra long, just for you!" Grunty said teasingly.

The day seemed long. Sometimes, people took short naps on the beds to pass time. Or they would have random conversations with each other. Some hated each other. Some liked each other. Either that, or those who were liked or especially hated were getting on their nerves easier as the days had passed. Everything began to happen all at once.

"Man, do I wish I was free," Canary Mary sighed. "I feel like I'm locked up in that cage under the poison gas caves all over again."

"You can quit any time, you know," Mr. Fit said, hoping desperately that she might agree with him and leave. But that was not about to happen.

"Nah," she said. "I could last a little longer. Why don't you?"

"No way. I'm not quittin' until you do."

"Is that a challenge?" she asked suspiciously.

"Fine. Then it is." They then began a ferocious stare-down with each other.

On the other side of the room, Boggy was missing TV. He was missing his wife's food, and his family, but mostly the food. "That's it," he said. I can hardly last in here. I need civilization."

"We know, Boggy, we all feel the same," Banjo said. He was getting completely fed up with Boggy's continuous whining.

"Hey Big Bear," Honey B said behind him, her voice melted into sugar-sweet honey. Banjo turned around, wondering why she was acting this way. Then again, she usually did this in a regular basis whenever he himself was in her prescence.

"Uh, hi Honey," he replied back to her, not showing much interest at all.

"Wanna come hang out with me? You know, talk? Maybe even do more?" Honey B was flirting her heart out. Those last words kind of disturbed yet scared Banjo. _Maybe even do more. _He shuddered on the inside.

"Nah, I'm fine," he said, trying his best to act as kind as he possibly could towards the female bee. Kazooie, who wasn't too far away, eyed Honey B, getting annoyed. She never really liked her at all, and especially hated it when she tried to flirt with her best friend. It made her feel fire burning up inside of her, it made her want to kick her butt, which looked like the perfect target for her, being striped and brightly colored, all the way to the moon, maybe farther. Taking action, Kazooie snuck around the corner and alighted on top of Banjo's head, staring ferociously at Honey B.

"Why don't you go bug Jolly or Bottles or something," she urged, sounding rather irritated. Honey B looked a little shocked and hurt at Kazzoie's words, and hurried away. Kazooie always scared her.

"What'd you do that for, Kazooie?" Banjo said. Kazooie bounced back onto the ground. "Oh. Nothing." She strutted away, glad to be rid of Honey B. The bee had frickin' boobs!

For lunch, everyone had a slice of lettuce with Crisco on it. Barely anyone ate it, and now the garbage was stuffed with all the crap that nobody could stand to even taste.

"Why do they torture us like this!?" Jolly shouted to the high heavens above, shaking his fists, erm, flippers? What do frogs have anyway?

"That's what I've been trying to figure out for the past three days," Weldar grumbled. Not that he really needed to eat, but the company of most other roommates was beginning to get on his bad side.

"Klungo is ssssstarving," Klungo complained hopelessly.

"So's everyone else who is SANE," mangy said forcefully, pointing to Gruntilda, who was gorging on a slick piece of lettuce with a glop of shortening on it.

"I think they're literally trying to kill us," Kazooie whispered in a frightening tone.

"Well I'll be gosh darn!" Bill shrieked while leaping up and down joyfully. "This stuff IS good!" The old miner got a bunch of disturbed stares from everyone, and they all tried to crowd away from the fox as far as possible. It made squeamish ol' Bottles throw up right there as Bullion slurped up a gob of Crisco.

"I know who I'm voting off now..." Bottles gurgled.

Many times, people lost track of time, especially Klungo. It was really 5:00 PM, but he thought it was only 8 in the morning! So the green minion proudly marched up to Mumbo, and declared, "Klungo ssstays up all night. Sssshould be proud of clever Klungo." Mumbo raised an eyebrow at his sheer stupidity.

"Stupid green booger not realize what time it is." He pulled out a watch. "Mumbo prepared, he brings portable clock. Fancy inventions useful these days. It is 5:00 in the afternoon, go back to preschool." The shaman walked away, leaving Klungo shocked and amazed at his new discovery. "Maybe Klungo should go back to watching Sesame Street." He trudged off.

The beds were pretty screwed up by now, thanks to the doing of Molly, Boggy, Kazooie, and Bullion Bill. Eventually, those people got too hyper and started jumping all over the place. Kazooie was simply restless, Molly was exploring deep beneath the sheets, Boggy was obsessed with his new fascination of jumping on the bed, and Bullion Bill would just wrestle with the sheets and pillows. That ticked several off, and they constantly had to tell them to stop it, or else it wouldn't be them sleeping in one tonight. Boggy was the only one who didn't listen, so he was excluded from the beds. Not that he would fit in one, anyway.

By the end of the day, it seemed NOBODY could handle it much longer. Even Mr. Pants seemed a teensy bit edgy. Everyone seemed to have had it with each other, except for the ones who usually had to put up with one another every day. That was a normal schedule for them. It was crammed, noisy, the food was bad, the sleeping wasn't comfortable for most, and you were usually by your enemy's side all day and all night long. Trust me, folks, it wasn't a pretty sight to behold. CRANKINESS!!!!! The results on who got the beds were Gruntilda, Jamjars and Mumbo. Eventually it was them who were situated there, and they won so many arguments and fights over it. Gruntilda had no problem, being she was.... Well, you know, Gruntilda. It was common knowledge to stay out of her way. And that was the end to another chaotic day.

Glad I finally put it up? Heh. I feel happy whenever I put up another fanfic or chapter. Makes me feel so complete. That was chapter 6 of "Stuck With You." Sorry if it seems short. This isn't my best work.


	7. Someone Quits by Default

Chapter 7. After reviewing my own story, I started on the next chapter. Hehehehehehehehe........ I'm seemingly hyper. That must mean this fanfic shall turn CHAOTIC!!!! I never even made a sloppy copy! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ONWARD!!!!

The next day was just like any other day in this hell hole. You'd get up. There would be no way to brush your teeth or comb your hair (If you had any), so your breath would be stinky and your hair would be tangled. Another thing was that you couldn't do your regular morning routine, whatever it was. Imagine what it was like. And there would be no breakfast to look forward to, that's for sure. Nearly everyone's stomachs were empty, unless you counted Gruntilda. Actually, I don't even think she had a stomach with all those bones. Where did all the food go, anyway?

Was all this torture worth a million dollars? YOU BET! That's what kept everyone motivated to win this thing. Of course, they all had their plans of what they would to with all this money at stake. Mr. Pants probably didn't even care, he was already filthy rich since he was "famous." Nobody knew why any of the ladies would even want to go for Mr. Pants. Molly was too young to care, but she did this anyways. Mr. Pants was probably here just to annoy everyone to their own ugly death.

"How many frickin' days have we been in here?" Jamjars grumbled, exhausted.

"Um... about 5," Banjo replied.

"FIVE!!? Holy shit!"

"Isn't this supposed to be a family game?"

"FAMILY GAME MY ASS!"

"Banjo, you never proved your point," Kazooie babbled. She had just suddenly butted into the short conversation. "One: This isn't a game. Two: This is rated PG13, preferably for language and or mild violence, and perhaps mild sexuality." She nodded her head to Mr. Pants. "Anyway, banjo, I have come to tell you that you are sadly an idiot." She gave him her little bird smile, a very annoying, cheeky one at that.

"Kazooie......" Banjo started, but he stopped. He had nothing to come back with. Jamjars started to chuckle.

"Yeah, Banjo. It seems you have been proven wrong," he remarked. Banjo began to feel his face turn red, but it was hidden by his light brown fur.

"Just.... Shut up, Jamjars." The two others laughed.

When breakfast was served, it appeared to be cottage cheese and onions. It looked so nasty. But, it wasn't as nasty as lettuce with Crisco, or frozen cubes of bacon fat, so a few more people managed a bite or two, seeing how hungry they were. At least it was edible. For some it didn't taste as bad as it looked.

No competitions appeared to be held today. It was flat-out boring here. There was nothing to do, except lay around and do nothing all day. Maybe you could start a conversation, but soon you'd run out of things to talk about.

Jolly seemed to go crazy without his bar that he sold alcoholic beverages at, and his partner Maggie Malpus, the blonde she-toad. Bullion Bill missed his old shack down in the mines, and his digging partner Dilberta. Mr. Fit longed for another long stretch of land to race on, and his several obstacles that he used to challenge people with. Here was not a good place to do that kind of stuff.

"Oh my GOD!!" Mingy Jongo groaned. "I'm so BORED!"

"Shut up, because you're not the only one," Gruntilda ordered irritably.

"You think you're so powerful, huh?" Mingy growled, starting to approach the bony witch. "JUST because you're the main antagonist. You're probably as weak as.... Molly!" In the background you could hear a sharp crunch, and Bottles screaming, "OWCH! SHE BIT ME, SHE BIT ME! SHE NEARLY MADE MY HAND COME OFF!!"

"Erm, I meant Bottles. Anyway, you get my point!" He narrowed his eyes into an evil, challenging stare.

"Oh, really," Grunty countered. "Can you prove it?"

"Well, uh... you're not that big."

"And neither are you. You're shorter than even I am! Shorter than Mumbo!" Gruntilda barked. Mumbo approached the two who were arguing, sipping an ice cold Coca Cola.

"Actually, me and retarded robot-mumbo are same height. You must be idiot big-time." He stopped to take another sip of his drink. "And besides, Mumbo is greater than both Mingy and Grunty-witch. COMBINED."

Grunty and Mingy weren't paying any attention to what he was saying. They were eying his Coke greedily. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?" they said in unison.

"Ah. Mumbo's loin cloth great for storage. It also have built-in freezing for Mumbo's drink." He walked away with his special merchandise, leaving the other two twitching their eye in disturbance and disbelief.

"I hate to think of where that's been," Gruntilda remarked.

"Me.... Too, but I have some ideas," Mingy added. He suddenly sprang to attention. "Wait, what about our argument!"

"That's right! I almost forgot! Another thing is that you don't have various powers like I do."

"Sure I do. I can...... um.... Teleport! Yeah, that's what else I can do!"

"And.....?"

"Uh...... laugh evilly at my success?"

Grunty began howling with laughter. "HA! It proves it! I am da mastah! WOOHOO!"

This made Mingy furious. He took his staff with his head carved on it, which was also metal like himself, and aimed it at Gruntilda. He let a ball of electrical energy shoot straight at her. It hit with a powerful force, electrocuting the undead witch. She screeched, and fell backwards onto her rather large butt.

If anything Gruntilda did to make Mingy mad, this would make Grunty FURIOUS. She stood up, formed a massive ball of her deathly spell, and shot it at Mingy's head. It fell off instantly, and clanked to the floor noisily. Everyone had been watching with great interest, frozen in suspence. It soon exploded, as well as his body.

"That was fun," Gruntilda boasted to herself. "I told you I would eventually kill someone." That last comment made everyone shiver with fright. Who knows? She might want to kill someone else...... and from now on everyone avoided Gruntilda at all costs.

That was chapter 7. It may be a little short, but then again, I think I'll have a lot of chapters to make up for the shortness of them. They're not TOO short, are they? I'll have chapter 8 done pretty soon. Hopefully.


	8. It Gets Worse

Took forever, didn't it? (Dodges a pitchfork thrown by an impatient reader) SORRY SORRY! I was kind of busy, and I have school to attend, homework to do, chores to complete, boogers to pick, (j/k) and air to breathe. Now where was I? Oh yes. Chapter 8, right? I probably lost all my readers, since you think I died. For all I know, my grave could already have been dug! OH NOES!!! It's OK now! I'm here to type Mr. Fanfic!

CHAPTER 8

Beds were screwed up. People were insane. The garbage can reeked. Everyone was starving. Could things get any worse?

The answer to that was yes. It COULD get worse. **Much **worse. It was only noon when the rapping of the wooden door was heard, meaning that something was going to happen. An event, perhaps? Better than being bored and doing nothing all day long. Bottles hobbled over to answer it.

"Who is it?" the mole called.

"Who else would it be? The host! And… an entire group of people who will install a camera into your room so that we can watch your every moves."

Bottles nearly fell down with the news. "Wh-wh-WHAT!?"

"You heard me! Now open the door, so that the crew can come in and install the new camera!" He kicked the door, which Bottles held in place so that it would not open. Kazooie approached the distressed mole, curious as to what all the racket was about.

"Whatcha' got there, beetle-breath?" Her emerald eyes fell onto the door he was trying his hardest to hold up. "Oh! Let me get that for you!" Pushing him out of the way, with Bottles trying to convince her that opening the door was a bad idea, she answered it by pulling it open. "Hello! Ooooh, the host! What's gonna happen now? And who are those people?" One of the guys waved and gave a smile cheesier than macaroni. Mmm, macaroni.

"Just let us in!" the host said energetically. "That damn mole was trying to keep us out!" He made his way into the room, covering his nose at the smell of the overfilled garbage can.

"Phew! You guys must be strong if you can handle this place!" The sound of the host entering brought many people to attention. Several rushed up to greet him, or see what he had come for. The camera crew hurried in, rolling a cart full of electrical supplies and tools inside.

"What are those for?" Honey B inquired, straightening out her feelers.

"Oh, this is equipment for installing the new camera we were sent to put in, ma'am," one of the four men stated. The entire room went silent. _Camera?_

"Camera? Why would we need a camera?" Weldar asked suspiciously.

"Simple," the same guy answered while getting handed a ladder. "To watch you guys. You're all gonna be on TV!"

"WHAT!?" the room exclaimed in unison. There goes their privacy, right out the old, cobweb-infested windows. The group watched in horror as the man climbed up the ladder, drilling a hole into the corner of the ceiling. This was a nightmare.

"You can't be serious!" Kazooie wailed. "What about OUR permission?"

The host laughed. Then the camera crew began to laugh. Soon they were in hysterics. After the random laughter died down, the host answered, "Permission!? PERMISSION!? Why would we need THAT from you!? Ahahahaha!" The contestants didn't say a word. They just knew that their own living hell just got worse.

"Why are you guys all so upset? I've always wanted to be on TV!" Molly said. Nobody replied to her, either. She was too young to understand what this meant. If only they were like her…

"Say…" she went on. "Mr. Host, I never caught your name. What is it?" The host looked down upon her, and his eyes went wide with fear. He began to sweat. "Erm… that is not important. What's important is… well… I brought lunch! Yeah! LUNCH LADIES!" He clapped his hands loudly to get the attention of the old women. In they came, with a tray of… Brussels sprouts.

"Enjoy!" the host said, beaming. Nobody knew what to say. Here was the nastiest vegetable on the face of the planet, being served to them for lunch. But that wasn't all. They were covered in peanuts and onions.

"Thisssss… issssss our lunch?" Klungo said. He took a bite. "Not bad."

"Hey, let me try!" Mr. Fit took a bite as well, but doubled over in disgust. "You are gross, man!"

The camera was soon ready. Saluting the contestants, the camera crew left the room cheerfully. "Mr. Host" began to leave with them.

"Wait!" Canary Mary called. The host turned before leaving. "Could you at LEAST empty out the garbage can? It's killing me!"

"Sorry, no-can-do." Before going, he said, "OH! I forgot to mention. Tomorrow is the day for a challenge! Get ready!" The door slammed, leaving the helpless contestants in the room… with a spy camera.

The sudden death of Mingy Jongo of course, eliminated him. The host had to take him out next time he came around, his excuse was that he had forgotten to dispose of the body.

"How much are you tolerating this?" Banjo asked Wumba as he and Kazooie, Mumbo, Jamjars and Bottles were in a group conversation.

"Not very good."

"Mumbo is OK," Mumbo boasted.

"That's because thick-skulled shaman has built-in fanny pack!" she shot back. Mumbo narrowed his eyes a teensy bit, then replied, "Well, Mumbo is gonna beat Wumba. He's gonna win the prize, in fact." Wumba was just about ready to punch Mumbo's bony face in, when Banjo interrupted.

"OK guys, that's enough arguing. We've had enough of it." The two stopped instantly, but not before glaring evilly at one another, then turning away to other faces. Kazooie sighed heavily, trying to get attention towards her.

"This is boring. I hate the color pink really bad now, and I especially hate the color gray," she protested. "I think I'd quit for my own sake."

"But a million dollars is a lot of money, Kazooie. Think of all the birdseed you could buy then…. INSTEAD of cheating at poker," Bottles responded. The red breegull ruffled her feathers a little bit, eyeing Bottles, knowing when he was attempting to shoot an insult at her.

"Really, Goggle Boy?" she replied with a fake tone of cheerful innocence. "I probably wouldn't have if you weren't so gullible to my tricks….."

"At least I didn't fall for the one about Gruntilda coming!" he shot back.

"But that one was ACTUALLY AN EMERGENCY!"

"And besides, it was Mumbo who told everyone," Mumbo corrected.

"Actually, that was true…" Banjo said.

"Oh well, it doesn't matter. Beetle Breath is still an idiot," Kazooie stated, sticking out her little tongue at Bottles, who was balling his hands into fists.

"Listen. I taught you those moves, and I can use em' too," Bottles growled, getting hot-headed.

"But I taught better moves," Jamjars subjected. "Face it, Bottles, you're pretty useless."

"I am NOT useless!" he fumed.

"Sure, go ahead and say that if it makes you feel better…." Kazooie drawled lightly.

"Guys, Wumba does not like this. It is much useless than Wumba and Mumbo's arguments," Wumba sighed. "Big-heap pointless."

"I agree. Man, it's so boring around here," Banjo groaned.

"Tell me about it," Kazooie mumbled. "And that camera is so menacing. Maybe we can get rid of it."

"NO!" Molly broke in. The group all turned to the jinjo. "I named that camera! Mr. Twinklelenses! He twinkles when I look at the lenses! And besides, Mr. Guy-who-won't-tell-us-his-name might get rid of you if you tried…" She was right, for once.

"Stupid thing… besides, it's got Mr. Pants all excited! He's trying new dance routines in front of it! MAKE IT STOP!"

In King Jingaling's Castle…

King Jingaling decided to plop down and watch some TV. He turned it on, and decided to see what his friends were doing and how they were faring, since that new channel had been installed. What he saw made him shut it off right away, his eyes burning, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. "I did not just see that, I did not just see that…"


	9. The Second Challenge, Mmmmmm

Here we go again. The next chapter of Stuck With You. Hehe. I have no idea as to what is in the future for these poor, innocent contestants. Mwahahahahaha. Mr. Pants is still haunting King Jingaling.

CHAPTER 9

After another night of uncomfortable sleep for almost everyone, the new day had dawned. Everyone was surprised they had survived these 7 days of torture and inhumanity. In the end it would be all worth it… IF you managed to stay the last.

It was the day of the second contest. So far they had only one, which was a race. Old King Coal, being as slow as he was, had came up last and was eliminated. What was in store for them all today?

It was a rude awakening for everyone when the host came barging in with the breakfast. The smell was that of waffles. However… it was gruel. Gruel. The gruel that was promised the first day. That smelly old gruel. And what was the waffle smell? The host's breakfast. Syrup was dribbling down his chin, and he was crunching the hot, sweet, toasty waffle in front of all the contestants. The eyes were all on his waffle.

"Hey guys!" he greeted between bites of the waffle. "I have your breakfast right here!" He began handing them all gruel. Mumbo dropped his because he was paying too much attention to the waffle. So was everyone else. It was as if they were all lions, ready to pounce on their prey.

"Hope you don't mind if I finish my waffle in here," the host said. In front of everyone's eyes, he devoured the delectable treat in a quick second, ruining everyone's chance of ever getting even a bite of real food for once. They nibbled on their spoonfuls of cold gruel miserably.

"Ready for the challenge?" the host asked. Everyone raised their hands, or whatever they had, or just sat there if they didn't even have hands. It would be nice to get out of here for once.

"Good! I'm sure most of you will like this challenge a lot, seeing that you all had to put up with that load of crap we call food." Spirits brightened, because this probably meant they were to eat food that actually _tasted _good. "The challenge is….. A PIE EATING CONTEST!" Shouts of hooray and complete happiness were spread around, people hugged, clapped or cheered, and Boggy cried tears of delight. It was a happy moment around the room for once.

"This can only be a dream!" Chief Bloatazin cried, holding his chubby arms up to the sky.

"It can, but it's not. Here, I shall lead you all to the place where the contest will be held. You don't mind if it is filmed, do you?" Nobody minded. It was nice to be out of the room and to eat real food. Hopefully, the pies were of edible contents…

The host led the group down the hall, to the area where they were first placed into the dreadful room they all shared. They went into another hallway, and soon, after a ways of walking were led to a door. Beyond that wooden structure was a large room. It has sparkling tables, spotless floors, and cameras were set up, as well as a microphone up front for the host. Big windows were placed around the hall, three each side with velvet red curtains. It was a gorgeous sight to behold to the contestants. He beckoned them to all sit in an empty spot on the table, but Weldar had to just be placed on another side of the room, since he was the biggest contestant and would not fit on a chair.

The host tapped the microphone. "Is this thing on? Good! Start filming!" The cameramen gave signals meaning that it was time. "Good day, world! As you all know, this is the second contest ever held in this entire game, Stuck With You! Here we are about to hold a pie eating contest, which is to the contestants relief's. The rules are that the first one to drop out is the loser, the last one eating wins! The loser will be booted out, while the winner earns immunity again for yet _another _vote-off tonight! The chefs, who have cooked all kinds of pies: Apple, cherry, chocolate, pumpkin, cheese, and even poo-poo pies, are ready to load the place up with at least a THOUSAND pies! Can you believe it folks? A thousand pies! With over 20 flavors! Reminds you of a jelly belly, don't it? Anyway, the contestants are raring to go in an eat-off challenge. When the whistle is blown, I want you all to eat your faces out!" The chefs, all 25 of them, were busy setting up pies for them, which the contestants found hard to resist poking at. When all was set, the host was ready to blow the whistle. "Ready…. Steady…. GO!" A storm of forks and pie-eating was beginning, until the host stopped them all.

"I did NOT blow the whistle! Follow the rules!" Everyone rolled their eyes, then the host blew his shiny whistle. They began eating once again. Forks clattered, contents of pies were spilled, mouths were filled, and everything. Weldar only needed to suck up all the food given to him, which the chefs had to constantly supply him, and once he even sucked up a chef accidentally. Canary Mary and Mr. Fit were challenging each other once again, Chief Bloatazin and Boggy were practically inhaling the pies, and Klungo made a big mess of noodles, cherry, and whipped cream on his face. They were beginning to notice how strange the pies could get, as Jolly had discovered his was pickle flavored. Fish pie, cream cheese pie, plum pie, mixed berry pie, lettuce pie, eggplant pie, you name it.

Honey B was the first to be unable to eat another bite. Molly was next, as she couldn't get any more into her stomach. The everlasting feud was still on, as to who could eat the most pies the longest.

"I'm…. not… stopping… until you… stop," Canary Mary spoke through rapid bites of her guacamole pie. Mr. Fit was going at the same pace.

"Neither… am… I," he said through a mouthful of cottage cheese pie. He finished that one, and was handed another, this time it was bean pie.

Next to go was Wumba, who simply couldn't handle any more. Besides, she knew it wasn't that important to win immunity or to drop out, since someone else already lost. Kazooie fell face-flat into her peaches and cream pie, feeling dizzy with all the pie she had eaten. It was still chaos.

"Look at em' go!" the host shouted. "Last time I saw this kind of action was from when my grandma had to go to bathroom with a broken femur!" Quite disturbing, but the contestants still went for it. Next to go was Jolly, who passed out after too much "poo-poo" pie. Thirty seconds later, Bullion Bill couldn't handle it any more, and neither could Canary Mary. Mr. Fit was triumphant, while Canary Mary sulked in her own "happy corner."

Weldar was never tiring. Boggy seemed like an endless black hole sucking up all the pies. Grunty was still going for it. Klungo wasn't tired yet. Mumbo, however, threw up right there into Jamjar's pie, forcing him to stop, and Jamjars to become so disgusted that he didn't want anymore.

"Two in one shot! How was that?" the host blared. He was becoming pretty annoying, but nobody cared. There was 9 people already out. Bottles couldn't eat afterwards, then Grunty, Mr. Fit, and Banjo. Mr. Pants forfeited after that, and then Klungo. Cheers were going to the final contestants: Chief Bloatazin, Boggy, and Weldar.

"I will prove that I am fatter than you no matter what you say or eat!" Boggy declared to Chief Bloatazin, who was also in a mad race to finish his pies. Weldar could do this forever. Eventually, Chief Bloatazin conked out, and then Boggy rolled over and belched, having given up. He felt like he was gonna explode, anyway. Weldar had won.

"WE HAVE A WINNER!" the host screamed. He couldn't fit the immunity necklace around Weldar's neck, so he just decided it was useless. He won anyway. Weldar beamed for once in his life, showing that he was better at this than everyone else. Honey B was sobbing, knowing that she was a sore loser. At least she was free.

The place was cleaned up, then the host sent everyone back to the room of doom. Before leaving, the host was asked one question.

"Mr. Host, what is your name?"

The host slammed the door shut and ran for his life.


	10. Vote Off Number 2

HEWWO EVERYONE! (Waves Mindlessly) I am finally going to put up my next chapter. Nothing much else to say here… but I guess I found the time to type up the 10th one. YIPPEE! ONWARD!

The contestants arrived to their "humble home" after the contest was over. With Honey B gone, there was more determination in everyone's hearts to win the game. She was not one to be missed too much, and besides, you couldn't feel too sorry for her since she had the opportunity to go back to normal life at home, and get all the privacy she wanted. Now there was the vote-off to look forward to, or to dread. That would be in about an hour.

"I am stuffed!" Canary Mary exclaimed, plopping down on one of the beds before her. She sighed, and rubbed her stomach.

"I don't feel too well," Bottles moaned, then took a brief trip to the bathroom.

"Must've been all that gravy pie he'd eaten," Jamjars commented. "Gravy always makes him have serious gas problems!"

Nobody wanted to laugh, though some did anyways. It was nice to have actual food, but too much of it could give you a stomachache, especially since most of those pies were close to being inedible. Crisco pie, Asparagus pie, Cold Medicine pie (Where Mr. Pants quit), and Yellow Surprise pie. Nobody wanted to hear the word "pie" again.

Weldar, on the other hand, didn't mind. Here he had won, and it was the fact that he was just an endless void of black inside that prevented him from feeling sick or full. It was irritating watching him sit there in the corner, smiling smugly at everyone that passed by him. That look on his face that meant, "Haha, I'm better than you!" or "Bring it on!" Mr. Pants or Molly, the less intelligent of the group, didn't seem to mind though.

"Hmph. I could probably have eaten Weldar baked IN a pie if I weren't distracted by your pigginess!" Boggy complained to Chief Bloatazin.

"Me? You were the one who was mercilessly gobbling down the salmon, jelly, and chocolate pies!" Chief Bloatazin shot back.

"JUST SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" Grunty screeched, dumping a pillow over her bony, decaying head. The two oversized loads got the message clearly.

Hours and hours of moaning, puking, and lying down passed, and everyone waited for the door to open expectantly. The only time it did, though, was when it was dinnertime. Nobody accepted it, however, being the state that they were in now.

"Must… participate… in… vote… off…" Bullion Bill gasped, hunched over on the floor. "I miss good ole' Dilberta!"

"That was random," Mr. Fit said.

"So? It's true."

The door slammed open, knocking Bottles off his feet in no time. He gave off a cry of, "Oooooh!" as he pummeled down to the ground.

"Whoops, sorry there," the host apologized. "You need to stay clear from the doorway, you know?" He cleared his throat. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, we are to do the second vote-off in the game!" He turned to where the camera was located, and gave it a bright, toothy smile. "Here are your papers and pencils!" Instead of courteously handing them out like last time, he threw them up into the air. Papers went flying everywhere, and one landed on Weldar's face. It began raining pencils, and Jolly got stabbed in the flipper by one that happened to be aiming straight for him. He howled in pain, and sucked on the bleeding hand.

"Sorry folks!" The host said. "I'm hyper. Now pick up those papers and pencils. They're yours." Everyone obeyed, though Jolly had some difficulty, and Weldar had a paper stuck to his face. Eventually it melted due to his occasional welds that appeared out of his mouth, like a snake. Ashes sprinkled down to the floor.

"Let the voting begin!"

Pencils scratched the papers immediately, sometimes pausing, and the brushing sound of an eraser was heard at times. Soon, the papers were handed in a neat stack, and the host took them. He left.

A good twenty minutes later, the results were in. "Okay, here you guys go!" He handed them each a paper with the said results printed on them. They read:

**Second Vote-off Results:**

**Kazooie: 0**

**Banjo: 1**

**Mumbo: 1**

**Gruntilda: 3**

**Wumba: 1**

**Jamjars: 1**

**Bottles: 1**

**Klungo: 0**

**Canary Mary: 1**

**Jolly Roger: 0**

**Boggy: 1**

**Mr. Fit: 1**

**Chief Bloatazin: 1**

**Molly: 1**

**Weldar: (Immune)**

**Mr. Pants: 3**

"And so you see," the host continued, "We have to have a final showdown. Be right back." Instantly, he left once again, shutting the door with lots of force.

"Wumba really wonders who gets to leave tonight," Wumba wondered aloud to her friends. They nodded their heads.

"Whoever it is, I don't care, they're both pesky!" Jamjars remarked, spitting on the floor.

"He's right, but I hope Gruntilda is gone," Banjo said. It was then that a strange noise was emitted behind them.

"So… you want me GONE, eh? I bet it was you who voted me off, you no-good bear! And that goes for your dirty little bird, too!" Kazooie stuck out her tongue in a childish manner. Grunty scowled.

"You better vote off Mr. Pants… or else." She held up a bony middle finger to the group, cackled, and hobbled over to another side of the room, obviously to scheme.

"Don't listen to her!" Kazooie whispered. "If you vote her off, she'll be gone! She can't do anything!" It was then that the host barged in again.

"New vote sheet! Here y'all go!" He thrusted them out to the contestants profusely, not caring about the tidiness of the room. And so, they began a second round of voting. It didn't take long for the votes to progress, or the host to figure out who won.

"Here you go! The results are:

**Gruntilda: 8**

Mr. Pants: 8 

"This… this can't be right!" The host wailed. "Then… then I will have to redo this all. I'll add in all the zeros, too." And so, it ended up like this:

**Kazooie: 2**

**Gruntilda: 3**

**Klungo: 4 **

**Jolly Roger: 3**

**Mr. Pants: 3**

The host sighed in relief. Well… Klungo! I guess you may leave as of now. Asta La Vista, bebe! Nice Knowin' ya! Sayanara! Never return!" Klungo gave a big, heaving sigh, and trudged out of the room with his head down. Surprising that Klungo was gone before Grunty, but hey, it's life. Only problem was, Gruntlida was still left in the room. As was Mr. Pants, the most annoying, porn-related guy or object in the room. He was performing a victory dance, which included a lot of hip-shaking and shoulder rolling.

And that was the day Klungo and Honey B were eliminated.


	11. Too Much Insanity

OK, I found the time to update. Sheesh, I've noticed that my reviewer, peter, seems to review with ONLY nags of "You need to update!" LOL! Well, sorry! I can't update 24/7! But I'll try my best. It's OK, dude, I'm not mad. I just find it funny.

Well, I really have nothing more to say, except for the amount of chapters remaining seems to be... erm… at least 6. Or more. I really have no clue. But hey, a nice Saturday morning! What's to lose? Anyway, on with chapter 11…

Klungo wasn't missed very much, either. Well, some people were a little sad that he had to leave, but it was only better for them. By nature, people are selfish. And so, his elimination only brought the rest closer to that million dollar prize. And it was good for Klungo to get out of that hell hole too, since he could not handle Gruntilda always breathing down his neck for once again in his life. He was free to do whatever he pleased, though it would help him in his new job to earn a million dollars.

The rest were passed out from last night's events. It was morning, of course, and due to the fact that the clock on the wall was taken down around the third day, nobody would know what time it was, with the exception of Mumbo, who had his "portable clock." Otherwise, the time was 8:00 in the morning.

Molly stirred. She had fallen asleep inside the bed of Jamjars, at the foot. It was easy for the little Jinjo to creep into small spaces such as those, and she could also fit to boot. Therefore, she usually got a nice spot to sleep in. And since the military mole was pretty short, she had no problems with his feet reaching her at all. In fact, she had quite a bit of space. When would it be time for her to get out of this room? After all, it did reek of food that was disposed each day, and the place was crowded, and it was an easy task for somebody to carelessly step on her, especially Boggy or someone as large as he. But she could live, unlike a few other members. Jolly looked like he really wanted to quit, as did Bullion Bill. It didn't matter.

It was questionable as to why Molly was in this game. She didn't find any interest in winning the prize. Who knew? It was simple to just trick her out of the game. Very uncomplicated. Nobody did that though. Maybe they were just too ignorant of the tiny Jinjo to really take notice of her. This bugged Molly, since she loved attention.

"Aw, nobody's awake," she groaned, plopping down onto the cold, gray floor beneath her. There was Mr. Fit, slumped over against the wall in an uncomfortable position. And there was Banjo, curled up in the middle of nowhere. It was then, that the hyper little critter felt a strong impulse… to wake them all up.

She raced over to where Banjo lay, snoring louder than a grandma who forgot to take Nyquil, and whispered in his ear. "Banjo… the matrix has you. Whatcha' gonna do when we come for you?"

Banjo replied with incoherent mumbles and little twitches. Molly giggled. She was having fun with this. Once again, she whispered, "Did I mention that Gruntilda has a picture of you taking a shower?"

This was pretty much it. At that moment, Banjo grunted once, and his eyes flew open immediately. "SAY WHAT?" he cried. Molly could not stop her fit of laughter.

"Oh… it's you," Banjo mumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily, and even bothering to sit up. That loud awakening had also woken up several other roommates, and now they were all stretching and yawning, welcoming the new day.

But it was not going to be a happy one.

Everyone forgot how to be excited for a fresh morning. I mean, what was there to do in this cramped-up room besides talk to and annoy your roommates? You couldn't eat. You couldn't do anything. However, there was the option of taking a bath or a shower, but that choice was usually already occupied. It was another miserable day.

Jolly was fed up with it all. I mean, past the point where you go insane. Past the point where you see little duckies waltzing around the room in their purple tights and top hats. Past the mark where you think the word "tree" is comical. And that, my friends, is beyond insane. He would be cracking up at random moments, talking to himself in low whispers, or twitching involuntarily. People were beginning to worry.

"You know what?" the peppy green frog said to Bottles. "I think that party dress looks fabulous on you. Would you care for a spot of Seaman's Brew? Only the finest in Jolly Roger's Lagoon." Bottles stopped breathing for a moment, taking in what he just said.

"Thank you very much."

Angela began to laugh. And she laughed. Then she was hooting with laughter. She began to crack up so hard, that she spontaneously combusted. And you know what? That is your author! And that never happened!

Now, take note that everyone else seemed pretty insane as well. Wouldn't you go insane too with this inhumane torture? That's what everyone thought. Some were taking it lightly, some almost no trouble at all. But some reacted a bit differently. And that person was Jolly.

"I'm a goin' home!" he cried, stumbling to the door and twisting the knob firmly. And that was the end of Jolly. At least, the end of his chance to win 1,000,000 dollars. The alarms let everyone around the globe hear Jolly's surrender.

"I was hoping he'd get out of this mental institution sooner or later," Canary Mary stated. Lots of contestants couldn't agree more, and they all shook their heads in conformity.

The day dragged on as if it were being carried on the back of a slug. Even breakfast happened later than usual. Potato peelings dipped in mustard weren't satisfying at all. As a matter of fact, ever since Jolly quit the game, lots of people continued to glance longingly at the door, and spitefully towards the camera. Would it be wise to leave and pass up this chance of a lifetime? Or could it be a big mistake that you would repent on for the rest of your life? Health was certainly an issue in here. Maybe it was best to just exit the room and go to a sane place.

"I need to go home," Bottles cried. "I have a family!"

"Then don't you think that your family would be watching you on TV?" Banjo suggested.

"Oh! Great thinking! Hi honey! Hi kids! HI MOM!" He was frantically waving his stubby arms towards the camera, in hope that his wife, kids, or maybe even his mother could see him now. In truth, they were, but they were thinking he was the biggest idiot ever introduced to TV.

"Let's not overdo this," Banjo sighed. He needed his bed.


	12. Nakedness, DoubleQuitting and Kung Fu

WHY must you people watch this torture? I mean, seriously, it's so depressing seeing others being tormented to no end by unlivable conditions! Why do you do that, you ask? BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY! ONWARD, to the next chapter of insanity!

All was quiet. OK, maybe not _quiet, _just boring. More boring than History Class, when you're stuck with a foreign substitute who can barely speak your language much less speak it loudly, and you didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Yep. They were livin' the high life.

That's what they wanted to think, at least. Boring… boring… and still boring. Nothing could entertain anyone now, and Mr. Pants was beginning to actually not scare people anymore.

"Seen that," Boggy grumbled, laying against a bed and watching Mr. Pants do his daily dance routines. Mr. Pants frowned, his little stick-mouth bending into the shape of a rainbow as he pumped his hips back and forth. He needed a new dance. But what? All the shoulder, hip, thigh, belly, and head movement had been done at least a thousand times by now. Same with the feet, too. There was something, however, he had forgotten to do. And that was…

Mr. Pants lowered his stick hands to his waist. Grabbing his thong, he slowly pulled them down his legs, exposing a nude, plump stick man. Everything froze. Time stopped. Children cried. Cars crashed. Lights went out. Cats stopped meowing.

"My…my… my…" everyone in the room stuttered. "EYES!" Pandemonium hit the room as everyone was in their haste to escape the vision of a naked Mr. Pants.

"Oh, God! Mr. Pants has gotten worse!" Kazooie cried.

"I thought he couldn't possibly get worse after he danced with a wedgie!" screamed Chief Bloatazin.

"Daddy! My eyes! I'm blind!" Bullion Bill bawled.

"Mumbo is appalled at underwear-man's display of behavior! That is not right!" Mumbo yelled.

There was crying, pillow throwing, contestant throwing, death wails, blindness, plague… OK, maybe not plague, but puking. Canary Mary made a mad dash for the door, and was about to turn the knob, when…

Mr. Fit got in the way. They fought over the door endlessly, each one trying to escape first.

"No, I want out!" Canary Mary squawked.

"No, ME first!" Mr. Fit argued.

"I'll show you! It will be ME who quits first!" Canary Mary challenged.

"Fine! But my hand is already turning the knob!" Then… both of them pummeled out of the room at the same time, a heap of bird-woman and armadillo. The alarms sounded, shutting everyone up.

"Wait… NOW look what you made us do!" Canary Mary spat. "We made a bet that either one of us was going to MAKE IT THROUGH first, not QUIT first!"

"Well, it was YOU who made it for the door," Mr. Fit retorted.

"ME? You were there first!"

"Well, I guess it proves that I'm faster than you, Mary."

"Well, you got a head start!"

"Goodbye!" Molly yelled, leaped up, and slammed the door. Everyone stared blankly.

The alarms were a little late starting, and when they did, it was as if there were two sirens wailing at the same time, not one. The announcer over the loudspeaker declared that Mr. Fit and Canary Mary both lost their chance to win a million dollars. The two shrugged, called it a tie, and left for their home to regain their long lost sanity.

"Now that was interesting," Weldar commented, all eyes on the closed door.

"I have to agree," Grunty concurred. It wasn't often she thought something was weird.

"Guys, the 'party' isn't over yet…" Banjo gulped nervously. Mr. Pants had not clothed himself as of yet, and was still dancing and grinning over the commotion he was making.

"He should know that there is a CAMERA watching him!" Jamjars yelled angrily, shielding his very bad eyes. Everyone felt like doubling over and hurling wherever they were standing.

"As much as Wumba wants to quit, Wumba still needs money to invest in better house," Wumba said, turning her face from the horrid scene.

The day went on awkwardly, as people avoided looking at the naked Mr. Pants all day, hoping and praying that he would at least cover himself up, or even better, quit right now. The cameras had their own trick. They covered up the nudity with the censored blur lines, and they even decided to play a nasty trick on Bottles and blur out his face. However, they all didn't know that. They were worried about the young publicity watching all of this, and wished that the smallest generation wasn't so much affected by this horror. As a matter of fact, poor Molly was a part of that.

"Get under the bed," Weldar ordered.

"Why? It's got evil dust bunnies under there!" Molly argued.

Weldar sighed. "Would you rather stare at that… that RETARD all day?" Weldar growled.

"Well, like that fat Polar Bear said, "They'll learn someday!" She made her voice sound deep when she quoted what Boggy had said one day. This worried Weldar, and even a few passersby. Had she been affected by all of this?

"Don't listen to him, he has a bit of… uh, problems," Weldar said.

Gruntilda laughed at Weldar stupidly. "Why do you always seem to be defending that blue speck over there? It looks like YOU have a bit of a liking towards her!" Weldar stopped, eyes wide. Grunty continued. "Heck, I captured the little fellows and hid them all around the Isle O' Hangs and even around my lair! In fact, I do remember that Jinjo stew was rather tasty." A bit of salivation was visible on her bony chin.

"What are you talking about? I do not!" Weldar defended, returning his expression back to a normal, cynical one.

"Do too! You're always protecting her! You're acting like her father!" All this commotion was creating some stares. Weldar began to feel edgy.

"Hey, old witch, can you go away? I'm still trying to defend my rights or something," Molly protested. Weldar rolled his eyes at Molly's strange attitude.

"No," was Grunty's simple and plain answer. Mr. Pants snuck up behind her secretly, but nobody dared to even tell her. They wanted Grunty to get what she had coming for her. Mr. Pants reached out, and actually touched her on her backside, causing the old witch to screech out in surprise.

"WHO DARE DO THAT TO MY BEHIND?" she shrieked, swiveling around to look at a naked Mr. Pants. That caused her some more fright, seeing as he had no clothes on, and she nearly fainted at the sight of him like this two feet away. Everyone else was laughing at the scene.

"I will fry you all, just you wait!" Gruntilda warned, creating a deadly spell made up of purple-and-green chemicals. Nobody was laughing anymore. They were now screaming and ducking under the sheets, the beds, behind the beds, or running for the bathroom. She aimed for Mr. Pants, and flung her terrible spell at the stick figure. She grinned evilly, but frowned when she realized it had no affect to Mr. Pants, just a burnt mark on the ground. Mr. Pants did a little victory dance, causing Grunty to nearly puke at the sight.

"You can't be invincible! There has to be some way to destroy you!" Grunty cried.

"Apparently not," Weldar said, grinning. Secretly, though, he wished there was a way to get Mr. Pants out of the way.

"Shut up, you old windbag! I had you created, and I can have you torn apart, too!" Grunty screeched. She was too furious to control her speech, much less her actions. Weldar shut up after hearing that.

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Pants? Kick her in the balls! Uh, wait…" Jamjars ordered, but afterwards blushed because he realized his stupidity. Grunty mouthed the words, "You're next."

Mr. Pants, instead, began to give a martial arts stance towards the witch, and it confused her. He leaped up, did a dozen stunts in the air, and performed a drop kick onto Grunty. Then he beat the crap out of her.

Nobody really knew whom to root for, but they screamed anyway. Weldar just scooted out of the way, while bringing Molly with him. The battle waged on, teeth with bones, nails with stick-legs, until eventually, Mr. Pants was fighting a pile of bones.

The crowd cheered for Mr. Pants, who single-handedly defeated Gruntilda. "Just you wait until Banjo-Threeie… gah! Wait, I was already defeated in Banjo-Tooie… Fourie, then!"

"I sure hope this counts as a default elimination," Banjo said.

"Let's break out the champagne!" Kazooie cried.

"What… champagne?" a few people asked.

"Oh."


	13. A Sudden Realization

Thankfully for the contestants that weren't as insanely evil as Gruntilda the ugly witch, her remains were scooped out of the room with a broom, her head complaining and cussing all the way to the halls. That scene caused many snickers and points from the rest of the crowd, but as soon as the door was shut, all was silent as Mr. Pants boogied in the nude.

"Please be decent!" Bullion Bill hollered. "My papa always told me never to pull my trousers down and expose my barn door open!" Not one person did anything but twitch and scoot at least an inch away from Bullion Bill.

"Sounds like you need to talk decent," Kazooie remarked mockingly.

"What was that, ya turkey?"

"I don't know, must've been your conscience."

Mr. Pants had to go. Next vote-off, if he continued this indecent exposure, he would be gone as quick as a flash of white lightning. His dance had gotten so obscene, that he had plenty of room to glide around the room in his birthday suit. Bottles nearly cried, Wumba scoffed angrily and shook her head in a disgruntled manner, Chief Bloatazin cringed, and several of them shut their eyes or went to sleep… under the bed, of course. Nowhere was safe in this room.

"Hey Bottles, wanna quit?" Jamjars asked the frightened mole donned with a pair of goggle-like eyewear. He unclasped one eye with his hand, and gave a muttered answer.

"What was that? Speak up, soldier."

"Yes…"

"Then go right ahead."

"A million… dollars…."

"Hey, pretty soon you'll wind up in one of these games again with the chance to win a prize like this, bro. Take the chance to either go home and keep your sanity, or win and never return to your normal self again. Either that, or you'll die of food poisoning or an overload of unlivable conditions."

Bottles thought for a moment on the cold, hard ground. He began to think of his home, his loving wife, the things he could do with a million bucks, Mr. Pants, his brother's suggestions, freedom, and the fact that the camera was watching his butt sticking up straight in the air right now. He chose a more comfortable position, and decided.

"No. A million dollars is worth paying my sanity. I could just have brain surgery afterwards, with all this money."

"Suit yourself…" Jamjars lay on the bed, and closed his eyes. Maybe he should leave before he himself lost his common sense.

Dinner today was deep-fried lettuce dipped in grease, so apparently the meals hadn't improved. Around the room you could see people picking at their plates, moving the crispy lettuce around with a fork and sloshing the grease around. Some people, in the hungry states they were, gave it a little nibble, but the pie was still in their stomachs digesting, so the need to chew at it wasn't very necessary. The garbage spilled over a little bit after the meal, making the room more dirty- looking and unkempt.

After a shower, Wumba finally announced that they were out of shampoo and nearly clear out of soap. There wasn't any time soon that the host was going to restock hygiene-related supplies. The group prepared for a life of smelly bodies and oily hair, which made matters worse.

"I'd give anything for just an hour of freedom," Banjo sighed, shaking his head miserably as he sat at the edge of the third bed down. Kazooie sat next to him.

"You don't have to tell me about it, I think we all feel the exact same way," she added, kicking her yellow, skinny bird legs over the side of the bed.

"Well, at least there's more room. We only have…" He began to count the number of remaining competitors, including him. "…Eleven left."

"That's sure gonna make us aim for the win harder with less people," Kazooie noticed. She watched as Boggy picked his ear, Weldar shut his eyes, Bottles cowered in fear, and she tried to avoid Mr. Pants' new dance. "Except… with him and his nasty dress code, I doubt anybody wants to stay cooped up in here."

"True." The two found themselves lost for words once again.

A wave of boredom always seemed to be wafting around the room, and people ached to go home. It was hard, but they held on and braved the torture of millions of viewers watching their every move and the new lifestyle they had to overcome. That was when a realization had hit Chief Bloatazin.

"Hey, wait a minute, I don't use American dollars! I can't keep the prize of a million dollars, so why the heck am I here anyway? It's all useless! Besides, I don't need the money! I'M OFF!" Chief Bloatazin wobbled over to the door, turned the knob quickly, and rushed out, screaming, "I'M FREE! I'M FREE! YOU GUYS SUCK!" Not one soul said one word, until Weldar, anyway.

"I must say, that was… sudden," he said. The rest of the group nodded their heads slowly.

"At least we don't have to stare at a living tub of lard with almost no clothes on all day," Kazooie remarked.

"Kazooie! That wasn't nice," Banjo scolded.

"So? He can't hear me."

The night dragged on, hours seemed like days, minutes seemed like hours, and seconds seemed like minutes. Soon, everyone was sound asleep… well, it wasn't comfortable if you slept on the ground. The entire room was getting ready for another uncomfortable day.


	14. Wet Third Challenge and Rebellious Vote

"ANOTHER CHALLENGE!" the host chirped as he slammed open the door, giving everybody a rattled wake-up call. Rubbing their eyes, stretching, and yawning, the challengers tried to gather information into their brains as to what was happening. The host was standing right there, a cup of coffee in his left hand, and a timer in his right. That was definitely an odd combination. What could possibly be in store for them today?

The host took a sip from his caffeine-infested drink. "You wanna know what it is, don't you?" The contestants nodded their heads slowly in unison, having no energy for anything whatsoever. "Well, see, the challenge is right now, this minute. I'm going to bring you to a room with an enormous tank of water in it, and I will time you to see how long you can last underwater! This reward is different, however. If you win… you'll get a free break for a day, and you'll also be treated to a special meal! No more deep-fried lettuce or raw Crisco, mind you." That snapped the attention of the contenders, who all stared greedily at each other, determined to win this thing.

"AND… the one who loses, of course, will no longer be eligible to play. That means no million dollars for you! Now come on, my good fellows, while the day is still young!" He marched cheerfully down the halls, and the challengers had no choice but to follow him, excited by the chance to break free for a while.

They soon came across a room that was dimmed, with the only light coming from the humongous aqua tank that held the challenge inside. Of course, there were annoying cameramen, and the host had been given a microphone instead of a coffee cup. "Greetings, fellow people of earth! Nya nya, just kidding. Here today we have our contestants about to do another challenge, the third to be exact. And, like the rest, there will be a vote-off later in the day. But the reward is different. They will get a free day to do whatever they please outside this jail cell, a free meal included at Genevive's Restaurant! That's right, that fancy French one that resides close to here! The loser is no longer eligible to win the prize. He or she will be sent home. Let's just see how they fare underwater, one at a time, and we'll time them to see who can last the longest and who just can't cut it! Ready?" The host approached Banjo first, and said, "You're up first. Give it your best shot, big guy!"

The bear was thinking about how retarded the host was as he walked towards the huge tank of water, climbing the ladder that was present. He gulped. The camera was watching his every move, putting pressure on him as he slowly descended into the cold water, sending a slight shiver up his spine. The host began to shout. "On the count of three, dive dive dive! One… two… three… GO!" Of course, Banjo had no other option but to "dive dive dive!" At first, it didn't seem too hard. All he had to do was lay calmly under the clear liquid, waiting to see how long he could last under there. After about thirty seconds, it proved to be more difficult. He needed to exhale some of that stored carbon dioxide out, creating bubbles that floated and popped at the surface. Forty seconds… he might make it. Fifty seconds… it would be nice to breathe right about now. A minute… head's starting to get dizzy. Seventy seconds… could kill for a gasp of air! Eighty… it's starting to hurt! He could not really last very much longer. Still, he stalled for about five or so minutes, until he popped above the surface, greedily gulping the fresh air that he craved for so long while under there.

"Aha! Ninety-three seconds! That's good!" the host cried, issueing for one of his coworkers to write down the score. "Next up, his cohort Kazooie!"

Of course, the red breegull disliked the water. She shuddered, and made her way towards the menacing tank of water. She couldn't possibly beat ninety-three seconds! Still, she took a deep breath, and attempted what seemed like the impossible. She would long for the air above the water she lay embedded in, nearly choking as the time flew by. She had no clue how long she was under there, since her brain was so lightheaded she couldn't keep track, but when it became unbearable, she burst out of the liquid, taking desperate gasps of air. "Fifty seconds! Oooh, definitely not as good as her friend there!"

The procedure continued like normal, except Weldar had a huge difficulty getting inside the tank, though he actually didn't have to breathe they figured out, so he was disqualified. No punishment was issued, so Weldar was perfectly fine, except he wanted to get away from that stinkhouse for at least a day and stay away from those insane inmates. Boggy nearly floated like a buoy with all that blubber and air stored inside him, and Mr. Pants decided to perform an underwater boogie dance. Nobody paid any attention to him, however, just to be safe. In the end, the results were…

Banjo: 93 seconds

Kazooie: 50 seconds

Bottles: 46 seconds

Jamjars: 70 seconds

Wumba: 62 seconds

Boggy: 102 seconds

Molly: 35 seconds

Bullion Bill: 61 seconds

Mumbo: 45 seconds

Mr. Pants: 32 seconds

"HOLY COW!" the announcer bellowed. "We have our winner, Boggy the polar bear from Hailfire Peaks! Congratulations!" Boggy, if he wore any pants at the moment, would wet them faster than you can say "freedom". He whooped and hollered, also giving his trademark "Wahay!" He would finally get the food he had desired, and he could feel drool seeping from his jowls at the prospect of edible goods.

He was sent away with a few rather beautiful girls to guide him to the limo, and the rest of the contestants eyed him jealously. Of course, the females were only envious because he got to get away from this prison. The host clicked his tongue and shook his head at the dancing stick figure donned only with underpants. "Sorry, buddy. I thought you could actually make it. Well, so long to Mr. Pants, the most worthy contestant of all time." Tears almost flowed from the host's eyes, but nobody cared. They were glad Mr. Pants was gone, and they didn't even have to vote him off to get rid of him. The remaining nine were sent back to their room, with more space than they ever had. It didn't matter to Weldar, however. He was always propped up against the wall anyway to save room.

Later, during the evening, the host swung by to hand out their papers for the third vote-off of the game. Everybody kind of wanted to get rid of a certain individual now that Mr. Pants was gone, so they scratched it down on their papers and handed the forms in for the host. He gleefully snatched them all and hopped off to get a head count.

"Stupid Boggy," Kazooie mumbled. "Why should he get to go to a fancy restaurant while we're stuck in this pig pen?"

"Obviously because fat polar bear have incredibly large stomach, so it also give him incredibly large lungs," Wumba replied with a sigh.

"Darn it, I was so close, too!" Banjo cried. Kazooie edged closer to him.

"Uh… you wouldn't mind bringing me along too if you won, would you?" she asked with a tiny voice hopefully. Banjo sighed and shook his head, forcing them to begin another argument. Before it got too bad, the host popped in again.

"Here are the results!" he stated with a loud voice that echoed across the room.

**Banjo: 1**

**Kazooie:**

**Bottles:**

**Jamjars: 1**

**Wumba:**

**Mumbo:**

**Bullion Bill:**

**Boggy: 5**

**Weldar: 1**

**Molly:**

"It's quite obvious that when Boggy arrives back, he will have to leave," the host said excitedly. "Five votes! Whew! Now, let's get this show on the road and wait until tomorrow when we break the news to him!" Once again, the contestants were left alone in the room to suffer as they always had. It was going to be a long night.


	15. Trickery

"Whaaaaaat?" The current contestants snickered inside their room as Boggy returned from his small vacation, the host waiting outside to greet him and dish out the news.

"Ah, rather unfortunate, really." He gave him a plastic smile that only showed how much he enjoyed his job torturing people.

Boggy balled his paws into fists, his fat jiggling as he protested, "But I won! That means I'm immune to being voted off!" The host chuckled after what the obese polar bear had said.

"Yes, you won. However, I did not say the prize was also immunity to the next vote-off. This was pretty much a trap if you won. All of you must be blind not to see it!"

That was true. Everyone shot looks of gladness around the room, that they had never won that stupid challenge that would only make them lose the next day. A break from this stinkhole would have been nice, but right away, your chance to win a million smackaroos would fly out the window. They were just happy that Boggy was out of their face. He took up room, after all.

"Say bye bye to the camera for me!" the host chimed. Boggy, however, was not amused. He gave the host a good kick to the balls, smiled as he writhed to the floor coughing, and stormed out of the building. The laughter from the room grew louder as they saw what happened to their host. While he lay crumpled to the floor and holding his precious crotch, he managed to shoot up a hand that read, "Fuck you." That only caused more laughter to escape.

"Fine…" he sputtered. "No lunch for you!"

"That's just fine," Kazooie said cheerfully. "We wouldn't have eaten it anyway."

The host growled and was carried away by a huge, stocky man with a shoulder width the size of California. He shot them a nasty look with those black beetle eyes, and then stomped away. They could have sworn he had shaken the building as he walked.

The day, lunch not included, dragged on like usual, the contestants beginning to break away from any alliances. They knew that it was now the time where one would have to fend for themselves in order to win. It wasn't just fun and games anymore. With only nine left in the room, the heat of challenge was burning brightly. So was the awful scent wafting around the room.

"Soap, anyone?" Jamjars mumbled crossly, laying back on one of the soft, equally smelly beds. "I can't even smell my own armpits anymore!"

Bullion Bill giggled and said with his normal hillbilly accent, "Where I live, we have to make soap in cauldrons usselfs! Besides that, we usually don't take baths regularly, since we live in them mines with lots and lots o' dirt!" Wumba, who was located closest to the foxlike hillbilly, began to walk away.

Weldar became amused. The win might have just gotten easier for him. Why? The other contestants all had noses in which to smell with. Since he had no use for that, he was unaffected by the horrible B.O stench that everyone nitpicked about. He was just fine in his comfortable corner, away from all those problems. He didn't even have to eat, really.

The ones who handled this torment the longest were the brave souls known as Banjo, Kazooie, Jamjars, Bottles, Wumba, Weldar, Molly, Bullion Bill, and Mumbo. They anticipated the moment when another of their comrades would get sick of the scent, and have no choice but to quit. As a matter of fact, they all played this game to their advantage. The plan in some people's mind was to make it harder for everyone else by playing a prank or creating more mayhem. Molly herself did that without reason or effect; she simply enjoyed creating hell for everyone around her. She would jump on the beds, scream, shout, ask constant questions to people like 'Why', unroll the toilet paper from the bathroom (which caused great stress), and embarrass them. She was also a handful to keep under control.

"Do ya think we should finally trick her out of this game?" Banjo whispered to Bottles as the innocent jinjo waltzed around the bare room donned in a toilet paper mummy wrap. Bottles nodded, certain of this decision.

"She's annoying, an obstacle in the way of our own winning, and is getting way too underfed. I say that's a wonderful plan!" Bottles said with a smirk. "It won't be too hard… right?"

"Nah. We'll just tell her something amazing is beyond the door. She'll walk out, and we'll have one more down." He stood up from his position by the wall, in which Bottles copied. The bear walked over to the playful blue jinjo, grabbed her by a jutting out strand of toilet paper, and slowly unraveled her from the white and cushy bondage.

"Ah! I can see again!" she exclaimed, still rolling around on her feet like she was dizzy. "Thank you, kind sir! What may be your reward?" This was already becoming too easy.

"Oh… a reward? Hm." Banjo was formulating a devious plan in his mind. "Outside, I need a, um… there's a jiggy that I happened to miss on that last adventure I had. Maybe you'd be helpful if you went out and got it, and all my wishes will be granted." He paused. "Pleeeease?" Kazooie had been watching her best friend attempt to trick this naïve young creature, and sighed contentedly. _He's finally doing things my way,_ she thought with happiness. _If he continues, then we'll be an unstoppable team! _

"Well… that _is _a hard demand," Molly contemplated, ever so carefully. Banjo wanted to roll his eyes. Did she have to be so dramatic? "Of course, I can't really get out. I am too short to reach the door."

"But we could help you do that!" Bottles cut in. "We are tall enough to reach the golden handle! Then you could walk out yourself and retrieve the jiggy for him!"

Molly pretended to look bored and intelligent. "Yeaaaaah… that is true. But why don't you go out yourself if you just opened the door? I'm sure it's not too far, and besides, you'd probably be within reach of the… the… jiggly!" Banjo and Bottles wanted to smack themselves upside the head. She was making this more difficult than it should.

"But my wish is for YOU to do it," Banjo protested. "I did just free you from your… toilet paper prison, didn't I?"

"I was a MUMMY! You just brought me back to life! That deserves a better reward!" She balled up her fists in determination. "I WILL go walk out there and get the jiggly thing!"

Before Molly even began to march out the door with the assistance of Bottles, Weldar opened one eye. He had heard what was taking place and what Bottles and Banjo had wanted to do. That was unfair to the youngest player. He had to come up with something to drive Molly away from the door, fast. "Wait Molly, don't." She turned around.

"What is it? I'm about to help this guy get his jiggly thing! You're always interrupting these important things! Who do you think you are? My daddy? Mind your own businessness!" She scowled and turned around again to proceed to the exit. Now normally, Weldar would have given up and cared less. As a matter of fact, he would have went along with the plan himself if this was a standard case, but as most everyone could tell, he was _attached _to the annoying ball of blue joy. Actually _attached _to something. This, of course, was something to gawk and laugh at, since everyone knew Weldar was a villain. The current events caught all attention in the room like a bunch of flies stuck to Fly Tape™.

"No, his jiggly thing is… it's not outside." Jiggly thing? There were so many ways you could put that into different context. "He's lying to you. He just wants to use you, then he'll wrap you back up into a… mummy." That should do it. _By the way, what AM I doing? I'm freaking acting like her parent! As a matter of fact, I'll probably be laughed out of this game! _

Molly looked up at Banjo suspiciously. "Are you… lying to me?" Banjo became lost for words, then glared at Weldar, who was purposely foiling his plans. Weldar glared back with hard crimson eyes.

"No… he's the one who lies. He's just mad at you for unrolling the toilet paper." Molly let out a shocked gasp that was probably fake.

"I… I can't believe you! Tricking me is a bad thing to do! And to think I looked up to you! Some role model you are!" Weldar didn't know whether to think what she said was exaggeration or true feelings.

"No, listen. The real truth is that everyone is trying to trick you out of the game. If you walk out of the door, remember that the buzzer will sound, and you'll never come back like King Jingaling or Jolly. They want you gone." He gave a smug smile to Banjo, who returned an even angrier gaze made of sapphire ice.

"OH! I'm so glad you warned me! Those stupids! You can't fool me that easily!"

"Actually, yes, we can," Kazooie retorted from the bedpost blankly.

"WELL WHATEVER!" Molly hollered, throwing up her arms into the air and heading towards the bathroom. "I have more important things to amentend to!" She continued mucking around with the remaining toilet paper. Banjo, after everyone dismissed this sudden event, stormed up to Weldar.

"Hey! We could have gotten rid of her! Why didn't you let me run out my plans? Is it because you have a _liking _to her?"

Weldar became appalled in an instant. "No! It's just that bastards who think they can take control of small children should be disposed of! They don't deserve to get their way."

"That's very unlike you. Face it. You think she's cute." He began to smirk evilly.

Weldar was commencing to grow hotheaded. "What do you think I am?"

"A softie."

"Take it back!" He hissed out a burst of white-hot flame. "Or else I'll burn you to a crisp!" Since they were shouting all of a sudden, the attention was once again attracted to them.

"Nonsense. I'll just kick your butt like last time." It was a rarity to see Banjo this heated up.

"Ha. Without Kazooie, you're worthless. I'd like to see you try!"

Banjo was running out of comebacks. "Then I'll… bring Kazooie and THEN I'll kick your hard metal ass!"

"You're still worthless. Plainly, it's obvious: Kazooie really beat me." Kazooie was taking this argument like a bunch of compliments directed towards her.

"Yeah, and I'll bring her out to beat you again!"

Mumbo handed everyone drinks from his compact cooler hidden in the loincloth. "Drinks for everyone. This get interesting." He took a long slurp from his island punch.

"You don't have much space to run," Weldar continued. This was true. Banjo became a little more alarmed as he glanced around the tiny spaces he had to run around in. Maybe this wasn't a fight he should try to win…

"Well… you have a lot of obstacles in your way. What if you accidentally hit someone else?"

"Then to hell with them."

"What if you hit your precious baby jinjo? What then?"

"She's not my 'precious baby jinjo!'"

"Why did you defend her, then?"

"I already told you!"

"I don't believe it, though."

"That's because you're an ignorant bastard!"

"Prove it."

Kazooie began to crack up and spurt punch out of her nostrils. She squawked with laughter unimaginable at first and fell over. "Y-y-you're fighting like little k-kids!" she gasped. "I n-n-never thought I'd s-see you l-l-like this, Banjo! Wah ha ha!"

The two eventually stopped fighting after they realized what a big scene they were creating. Life went on normally for the contestants afterward, as they began to plot ways to expel some of their comrades from the game.


	16. Madness

The host had been sent to the doctor's office for a check-up, due to Boggy's blow to a certain private area. That meant an actual dinner made of mashed potatoes, chicken, and peas. The contestants ate like pigs, demanding at least two more plates or until they were stuffed. When it was time to settle down for the night, most everyone was surprised to find that the beds had purposely been wetted. Nobody knew who did this crime, but whoever did was a tricky devil. That would create hell for the competitors who did NOT like the floor.

Of course, all in all it was a minor setback, but added to the already putrid scents floating around the room. The smell of body odor, oily hair, garbage, urine, and a clogged up toilet tortured the poor noses. Banjo almost left once, Wumba re-checked the bathroom for any hygiene supplies, Molly threw a fit, and Mumbo used a "portable air freshener" that he fished out from his loincloth to keep the smell at a lower level, but it was futile. The horrid stench could kick any Lysol product's ass.

"Got any deodorant in there?" Bottles asked weakly. Mumbo shook his head, slightly puzzled.

"What 'dee-odor ant?'"

"Never mind." He didn't even want to know how good the shaman kept up with his personal hygiene. He was even desperate enough to use somebody else's deodorant; then again, everyone was.

"Hey, Bottles, I have a question," Banjo noted. "Why do you care so much, when you practically live in filthy dirt? How do you bathe?"

"We never told you before, but we've always thought you stunk." Banjo kicked Kazooie away and cleared his throat. "Ignore her. But anyway, what's the deal with that?"

That was a tough one. "Uh… because dirt isn't as… stinky? It's just dirty, but who said it reeked like this room?"

"Quit yer complaining!" Jamjars snapped at his younger brother while pointing his military stick, whom nobody realized was here until now, at his back. "Learn to suffer through these conditions! There're worse circumstances than this one. I'm disappointed in you people!"

Silence. Then a mob of angry complaints. "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" "There is nothing worse than this torture!" "Have you even tasted the food they serve us?" "There's no more soap!" "The trash hasn't been taken out ever since we got here!" "I like rainbows!" "What kind of crazy monster are you?" "What side of the asylum did YOU come from?" Afterwards, the assault on the military mole proceeded; Weldar watched from a safer distance in amusement. "I don't have arms, legs, noses, or any joints… therefore I can't smell the stench or squabble with you idiots."

Some cranky contestants who could not get their hands on some soap or fresh air battered Jamjars. He was outnumbered greatly, and despite his earlier boasts about him sporting good moves that had been taught to Banjo and Kazooie, he could not use them very well. He was a useless sack of organs with bad eyesight. After the wrangle, he had been kicked towards the door, a sign to him that when he wakes up, he should leave as soon as he regains the first bit of consciousness. If they had their sanity, the contestants would question this mindless violence and apologize, but that was out of the question. They were now mostly beasts with no reasoning skills.

When the host returned, he was surprised to find a dark room awaiting him. "Hmm, what could possibly be going on?" he issued to himself while feeling along the walls for a light switch. The door shut behind him immediately, forcing his heart to skip a beat in mild fear. Low growls were barely audible in the murky black. What had become of these contenders? What was the meaning of this insanity? He should have known well enough that this torment was enough to put anybody into this state of crazy minds, but he had no time to even think about considering that; he was just taken down by a throng of the players.

They ripped at him, punched, pecked, slapped, bit, kissed, and tore. The host had been tied up to one of the bedposts vertically, with the handy ropes Mumbo had stored in his portable storage inserted in the loincloth he wore. A fire had been lit directly beneath the panicking host's feet, and he struggled and whined constantly.

They began a chant, circling around their enemy in a hypnotizing manner that got the host really freaked out. "Sacrifice!" Wumba cried, grabbing Molly from off the floor and sharpening her beaklike mouth like a knife, then she began to slowly knick at the ropes. In the dim light of the fire, the host could spot war paint of some sort, and fuming eyes that read _revenge. _"What the hell did I do to you?" he questioned irately, with a hint of panic in his voice.

All of them started blabbering at once, complaining and arguing about what kind of inhumane torture they had to go through to win a million dollars. "Well, it's worth it in the end, right? And you're really close to winning!" He gave them a cheesy, nervous smile, but Wumba growled and held Molly's beak up to his neck. Molly giggled, but that was unimportant.

"You make poor people stink, and feed Wumba unhealthy food!" she snarled, green eyes incensed with rage. "That very sickening!" The host looked very frightened, but then, he realized that Molly's beak had no effect on the ropes. If that were the case, then Molly's beak would have no effect on his neck, either. They were all a bunch of mindless idiots. He gave the flattest expression possible, and then said, "I can't give you the prize unless I'm free. And besides that, you've lit the room on fire! It spread! OW!" After he said this, he realized his toe had touched the fire, and then nearly had a coronary. So did the contestants, who had suddenly regained their sanity and started to run around the room screaming.

Weldar, who had no part in this, noticed, with wide eyes, that a FIRE was present in the room. FIRE. It was a rather vicious bunch of flames, too, and he was FLAMMABLE. Jamjars had recently woken up, but when he noticed the fire, he exit the room immediately, losing all chances for being a millionaire. The host flipped out when nobody was untying him. "HELP! WAGH! S.O.S! ASSISTANCE, PLEASE! I'M GOING TO DIE HERE!" He kicked at the weakening bedpost, but the attempts were vain. As a matter of fact, his screams were nothing compared to that of the stunned contestants, who felt like they had just woken up from a mad dream. If they left, they would lose chances… possibly. Either way, it would be best to diffuse the fire… but how?

The flames had eaten at the first bed, and the host had gotten away, with a remaining bedpost still tied to his back as he rushed out of the room like a coward. The second one was in flames, and getting closer to Weldar. He crashed down, but realized that his slithering was incredibly slow. It would only be a matter of time before he blew up and killed everyone in the room… and he did not want to be a detached head again.

Banjo had just realized this. He panicked and decided that now the time was to convince people to GET OUT. NO MATTER WHAT. He begged for Kazooie to leave, who heard nothing of the sort, Mumbo, who disobeyed, Bottles, who agreed and hobbled away to quit, Bullion Bill, who also disagreed, Wumba, who gladly quit as well, and Molly, who didn't understand in the slightest. As a matter of fact, she was watching the fire with intent interest. _What freaking hopeless people._

"Okay, listen up! It's your life or a million dollars. Which do you value more?" It took them a while to think this one over. Banjo grunted in disgust and rolled his eyes. "Well, come on! Or else the fire will swallow you."

"Shut up, Banjo!" Kazooie yelled across the smoke. "We all know you're plotting some devious plan to hoard us out and win all the money for yourself. No chance!"

"If I did that, I wouldn't be alive by the time I won!"

"We're still not going."

"Fine!" Banjo threw his arms up in the air in defeat. "I'm not dealin' with you people!" He left the room too, like the smarter contestants. They all snickered as they had rid of the main hero in the game of Banjo-Tooie.

"Serves him right for not including my name in the sequel!" Kazooie scoffed. "I'll win all the birdseed money I could hope for!"

"You mean my bean money!" Bullion Bill argued. Everyone gave him a stare. Bean money? What a waste. Then again, so was blowing it all on chicken scratch. However, they were beginning to realize their incompetence as the fire lingered on, getting ever closer to Weldar. Panicking further, they ran in circles trying to figure out a solution. They didn't have to do much, because Weldar knocked some sense into himself, took a deep breath, and blew out the ominous fire. The smoke, however, was enough to make one choke.

"Who left in here?" Mumbo inquired, squinting to see the remaining contestants. Weldar, Molly, Kazooie, Bullion Bill, and himself had stayed. The rest chickened out and bolted for the door. The pressure to win this game had increased greatly.


	17. My Mom Was A

AN: EXCUSE the long absence from writing the story. My inspiration died. However, like any fanfiction, if I put my mind to it, I can continue. It is a pretty funny story and rather successful in my opinion. :D LOLZ. The story is almost over, isn't it? I don't even know how it will end. I never did. We'll see. So, sorry for all the people who have been waiting this long for over a year. I don't blame you for hating me for this. XD I suck at updating, usually. S'cuse me.

Onward.

Weldar, Molly, Kazooie, Bullion Bill, and Mumbo; the remaining contestants. The ultimate survivors. The champions among champions. Survival of the fittest. Regardless of what you may want to acclaim them as, here they were, standing in a smoke-filled room and waiting for a clearing to make sure what they thought was true.

"Hm, I wonder what sort of genius decided to smoke the bed, huh?" Kazooie remarked, squishing the ashen pile with her scaly, yellow toe. "Come to think of it, what were _we _smoking?"

The remainders nodded to each other and murmured in agreement, taken by Kazooie's observation. Now, they had nothing. "Now, we have nothing." That was Mumbo, by the way.

"…But each other!" Molly squealed, attempting to hold both Bullion Bill and Mumbo around the shoulders, but found her vertically challenged state a disadvantage. "And if we all come together, we know what to do… we all come together just to sing, 'we love you'-"

"What the crap?" Nobody knew who that was, and that was kind of scary. Curious eyes wandered around the room, especially towards the ceiling. Who on Earth would have such a loud, space-filling voice? And if that person was divine, why would they care about Molly's sudden eruption of The Sailor Song? Actually, nobody cared about that. What they truly cared about was what sort of evil being created that voice and what they would do about the ashy room.

"Who goes there?" Bullion Bill demanded, acquiring a random pitchfork from Mumbo's loincloth. "Ahm warning you…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…Peaches."

"………….."

"…Tangerines?"

"………………."

"…Durians!"

"…………………………."

"…Lychee berries!"

"………..Stop."

"Wait wait wait! Captain Crunch Berries!"

"…That's not a fruit."

"Pineapp- WAIT, YES IT IS!"

"The bible never said so."

"What's the bible got anything to do with mah favorite cereal?"

"Your face."

"That was the lamest retort I have ever heard," Weldar yawned.

"Your mom was the lamest retort I have ever heard!"

"I was joking about the last one." One eye narrowed in perplexity. "The next one you said was the worst."

"You have no business with me and that foxy gold digger, vacuum."

"I'm not a-"

"Foxy?" Bullion Bill's eyebrows raised up and down in a suggestive manner. "Now what in tarnation could you be talkin' about there, missy?"

"…The fact that you have a long snout, pointy ears, and a bushy tail."

"…Oh." He seemed disappointed. Never before had he attained a date.

"Onto further business… why are you here?" Kazooie questioned, raising her strident voice to the ceiling.

"Oh. Actually, I'm a mere ceiling tile. I have nothing to do with your game except for one detail. Carry on." It was still unclear as to where she remained.

"What the friggles, woman!" Mumbo exclaimed, spitting out his Blast-O-Butter popcorn.

"I've seen it all now," Weldar mused.

"Oh, come on now, you're a talking vacuum! And how did you survive the fire?" Kazooie demanded to know.

"HI!" It was evident who this high-pitched, musical voice belonged to.

"Watermelon!"

"JUST SHUT UP, SHUT UP, one at a time!" the aforementioned ceiling tile hissed. "And you fail! Get outta the room!" She was referring to Bullion Bill, but he had no idea.

"Wait… what detail?" Kazooie asked in a rush.

"It's not very important."

"Come on…"

"It doesn't matter." One of the ceiling tiles began to blush, and queer looks were given to the tile. At least they knew which one.

"Yes, yes it does."

"I'm…"

"Yes?" Mumbo had decided to join in on the intensity.

"I'm… the host's mom."

Somewhere else in the world, a kid was shot. A fly dropped dead. A terrorist attack occurred. A llama was raped. Glass shattered. People screamed. People died.

"…COME AGAIN?" They all questioned at once, aside from Molly, who considered that perfectly normal. Actually, she was wondering if the host had any other siblings, and what his name actually was.

"I said it once, I don't need to say it again."

"But…how did you… oh, nevermind." Kazooie didn't even want to know how a man came from a ceiling tile.

"Bananas!"

"Shut UP! Somebody, kick it out of the room!"

"Gladly!" Mumbo offered, anchoring a foot behind the hillbilly's trousers.

"Well, anyway… you scared the man out of the building."

"Honestly?" Kazooie asked, slightly bewildered.

"Sort of. He's kind of shy to come back into the room. You forever put a dent into his personality."

"Sweet."

"That is not sweet!" Unlike most Banjo-Kazooie talking objects, this one appeared to have no eyes. For we all know that some of the children who played that game were forever scared of going to the bathroom, lest the toilet had eyes. "That was my son, and I demand you bring him back at once! If you don't… I will reign a death penalty over your heads! Way worse than a petty fire hazard!" Some of the contestants gulped. "So… what will it be? Leave this place for a short while and convince the host to come back, or stay in here and rot in hell!"

"We should go. I mean, you should go." Weldar stated this with confidence. "You really should."

"Hey, that not fair!"

"Whaddya mean?" Mumbo and Kazooie felt they had protesting rights.

"Oh…" He sighed lazily, opening his gaping mouth for a yawn. "I'm so big and slow for this building that I'll just slow you down."

"Then none of us will go and you'll die!" Bullion Bill objected.

"Nah… Molly, you'll go, right?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Told ya."

Kazooie huffed. "Well, that's only because she's like a duckling following its mom."

"You're jealous because you have no followers."

"Stick it."

So, anyway, off they were to reclaim the host that they would have preferred to keep as far away from a television studio as possible. Once the door had been stepped over, the alarms sounded for each and every member…

Except Weldar.

"WHAT THE FLIPPING PANCAKES WAS THAT ABOUT?" Kazooie screamed, shocked at the possibility of her losing.

"You all lose," Weldar explained with a toothy, sly smile. "The money is mine, bitches."

"Now, just hold on one bloomin' moment-"

"No, don't worry; the vacuum is wrong," the host's mom explained. Weldar really wanted to protest or at least set her aflame, but he waited it out to hear what she would say. "Because the host is not here, this will not count towards the game. I wouldn't trick you to let a windbag like him wi- AAAGGGHHHH!" With that, a section of the ceiling was gone. Still, the participants of this game really wanted to get a host back in order to win, so that's where they headed: to freedom. Well, for a short while, anyway.


End file.
